Living a Lie
by Sophia Anya Lee
Summary: When a young prodigy arrives at Hogwarts with no clue about her past, the staff is guessing that she is the daughter of a very powerful wizard. ACCIDENTAL MARY-SUE WARNINGS. DISCONTINUED.
1. Chapter 1 Through the barrier

**Summary ****– **A girl tries desperately to uncover the secrets of her past, only to realize…

**Author's Note** – I know the summary is not very clear, but I wanted to keep the plot a mystery, so I cant mention much. This is my first fan fiction and I swear it will be good (and very long), so please read and review. And yeah, Jo's timeline confuses me a lot so I don't follow it in the story. Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimers** – I don't own Harry Potter, but I wish I did. But if wishes were horses, I'd still be a terrible rider (or writer for that matter ;).

**Chapter 1 – Through the barrier**

The platform at King's Cross station seemed unusually crowded for an ordinary day. The station was packed with people, none of whom seemed to be interested in boarding a train, and instead kept whiling away their time by the stone pillar halfway between platforms 9 and 10. What was more, thought the burly station-master who happened to be on duty that day, these people seemed to vanish into the blue after a few minutes of idle lingering. Strange, he muttered, seriously considering the prospect of drinking less wine on the night before duty.

About a foot away from the burly station-master, a tall, sprightly lady wearing what clearly looked like an emerald green cloak stood arguing with her daughter. The girl, with wavy, chestnut brown hair that fell gracefully to her waist, and light brown eyes, was tugging impatiently at the sleeve of her mother's cloak.

'Mom, please-' she began.

'Honey, please _wait_.' said the lady, exasperated . She looked around at the crowded platform, wishing she had done it earlier.

'_Mom!' _the girl's voice was desperate now. 'The train leaves in ten minutes.'

The woman sighed. 'Okay.'

The girl smiled at her mother brightly. 'Thanks, Mom.' She kissed the tall lady gently on her cheek and pulled a luggage trolley in front of her.

'Bye.' she called softly, waving her hand at the tall lady. 'I'll write to you.' She vanished into the stone pillar.

The lady sighed again. _If you ever remember me,_ she thought bitterly.

_She hated doing this……_

_But there was no choice……_

'_Dillusiono'_ she muttered, tapping her wand which she drawn from her robes, on her head, making sure no one had noticed. The lady instantly camouflaged into the colours of her surroundings. Looking around cautiously, she walked into the barrier.

A cool breeze of air greeted her as she stepped on the stony floor of Platform 9 **3/4**. The witch moved swiftly across the platform trying to find her daughter, who would be attending Hogwarts that year. She spotted her silky brown hair a few feet away from where she stood. Walking towards her, she closed her eyes.

_There was no choice……_

She pointed her wand at the girl and muttered silently-

'_Obliviate.' _

_She would never know……_

_All those years……_

The witch knew it had worked, judging by the dazed expression her daughter wore on her face.

'At least, this is the only time I'll ever have to.' she told herself softly, trying to appease the growing feeling of guilt that was burdening her mind.

'I'll be at Hogwarts with her.' she mumbled to herself, guiltily. 'Never have to do this again.'

She watched as her daughter stood stunned for a while, and then began to regain consciousness. The girl had pulled her luggage trolley from amidst a group of babbling redheads and was walking towards the train.

She watched silently, tears spilling down her sparklingly green eyes…

_Never have to do this again……_

How wrong she was.

**A/N** I know that the chapter is very small, and it doesn't answer any questions, but it seemed to be an ideal ending. Most of the story is already in my head and I promise to update it as soon as possible. Thanks for reading! And do review!

**PS**: For those with a memory as bad as mine, _Obliviate_ is a memory modifying charm.


	2. Chapter 2 The girl on the train

**Author's Note** – The story focuses mainly on the girl, the one with long, wavy, brown hair

(though that might change soon enough ). So, most of the story is written from her point of view. I hope this chapter answers so of the questions left hanging at the end of the last chapter.

**Disclaimers **– I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters (with the possible exception of Mia, Charlie, Alexannah and a few more.) But I still wish I did.

**Chapter 2 – The girl on the train**

Mia Bridger tried to stand still as the surroundings of platform 9 **3/4 **slid in and out of focus. She rubbed her eyes and pushed a runaway strand of wavy brown hair out of her face, knowing perfectly well that it would fall back in two minutes. She wondered why she was so dazed all of a sudden.

'Don't get over-excited.' she warned herself. 'Just stay calm.'

Rubbing her temples with her palm, she glanced wearily at her watch. The train was bound to leave in five minutes, she thought. Sighing, she wrenched her luggage trolley from amidst a group of babbling redheads and hauled her luggage onto the train.

Dragging her overloaded trunk and owl cage across the train in search of an empty compartment was proving to be rather tricky. Her trunk was very heavy and her tawny owl refused to sit quietly in the cage as she heaved it across the train. Most of the compartments were occupied, seeing as she had boarded the train so late. Mia was on the verge of giving up when a cheery voice addressed her.

'Oi! Want some help there?'

The addresser turned out to be a tall boy with a pale, round face, tousled brown hair and charmingly brown eyes. He had a wide smile and was waving merrily at her.

'Er, I guess so.' she replied uncertainly.

He walked up to her obligingly and hauled her trunk across the train.

'So' she said, watching the boy laboriously drag her overloaded trunk down the train in search of an empty carriage, while she followed with the owl cage. 'Where's your stuff?'

'I found a carriage ages ago' he replied, hauling her wooden trunk into a small, empty compartment near the end of the train. He glanced at her apologetically. 'Er, its full so - '

'I understand.' said Mia breezily. 'Thanks a lot, anyways. You can go to your friends if you want to.'

'Nah' he muttered sitting down beside her. 'I'll stay for a while.'

She smiled at him, pushing the trunk under her seat as she did so.

'What's your name?'

'Charlie. Charlie Whitman. And yours?'

'Mia Bridger.'

They grinned at each other for a while and then Mia broke the silence.

'Can you tell me something about Hogwarts?' she asked him eagerly.

'Sure' he replied. 'I'll not tell you much though, it'll spoil the surprises.'

Mia nodded, urging him to continue.

'Well, Hogwarts is pretty huge. A sort of a castle, you know, ancient and stuff. You'll see what it's like today. You eat in the Great Hall and sleep in your house dormitory- '

'Tell me about the houses' Mia interjected. 'Which one are you in?'

'Ah, _the houses_.' he said rubbing his hands together.

'There are four houses and you are sorted into one of them depending upon the traits which you possess. The houses were established by four nobles witches and wizards. _Or three anyways_.' he added as an afterthought.

'There's Gryffindor - where all the brave go. And there's Ravenclaw – where all the intelligent ones are. Then Hufflepuff - they say that Hufflepuffs are hardworking and just, but everyone knows that they're basically losers.'

'What about the fourth house?'

'Slytherin' he mumbled. 'All the cunning and the shrewd and the _nasty_ go there. Yes, even you-know-who was from Slytherin.'

'Who's "you-know-who"?'

'You don't know? Never mind. I reckon you'll find out soon enough. I just hope you're in Gryffindor. You know, my house. Come to think of it, just don't be in Slytherin.'

He got up, smiled at her and walked to the compartment door.

'Wait!' Mia called after the retreating boy. 'How are we sorted?'

Charlie grinned. 'You'll see.'

Mia sighed as the boy closed the compartment door. She turned to look out of the window as the speeding countryside passed by the train.

The compartment door slid open.

'Hello?' called an unfamiliar voice.

Mia turned to stare at the newcomer.

The girl was fairly tall with straight, strawberry-blonde hair that fell gracefully to her waist, like Mia's and piercingly azure eyes. A nervous smile was playing across her delicate pink lips as she surveyed the compartment and it's sole occupant.

'_Epitome of beauty_' thought Mia, smiling to herself.

'Sure' she said to the girl, getting up to help her. The blonde dragged an intricately carved ebony chest and small wicker worked basket. She heaved the basket on the seat beside her and pushed the trunk under her seat.

Mia held out her hand. 'Mia Bridger.'

The girl smiled wryly. 'Alexannah Giovanni-Ann Bellevua.' she said. 'Or Alexannah Marie-Ann Truman. I don't really know.'

Seeing Mia's blank look, she sighed.

'My parents are - well they don't live together.' she said quietly. 'We used to live in France when I was younger. They broke up when I was seven years old. I don't know exactly why they split up but they used to fight a lot. Dad had a terrible temper. My sister, Alexandra and I, we were scared to even talk to them after they had a row.'

She shook her head sadly.

'Then, Mom could take it no more. They broke up and Dad agreed to take care of Alexandra, while Mom came back to England where she was born and educated. So Dad's still in France, _his homeland_ with Alexandra, and Mom and I are in England._'_

'Dad was educated in Beauxbatons so Alexandra goes there as well. We're still in touch you know' she said smiling suddenly. 'Like pen pals.'

'But I don't remember you asking me my life story.' she said grinning cheekily.

Mia shrugged. ' I didn't have the heart to interrupt you.' she said. She was wondering what Beauxbatons was. 'Probably a school in France' she thought.

'Well, what about you?' asked Alexannah candidly.

'_What about me_?'

'Honestly!' Alexannah snorted. 'You know, where you were born and stuff.'

'Er, I think I was bought up at an orphanage. I don't remember much, to tell you the truth.'

'You don't remember where you were twenty-four hours ago?' she asked incredulously.

'_It is strange_' Mia thought_. 'I cant even remember how I got on the platform in the first place. Or how I got my owl. Or books.'_

'HELLO?'

Mia snapped out of her reverie.

'I really don't remember anything about my past.' she said softly, wondering suddenly if she was suffering from some short term memory disorder or something.

'So do you have any siblings?' Alexannah piped up.

'No.'

'Oh. So you went to Diagon Alley alone?'

Mia could clearly remember the colourful streets of Diagon Alley, the shops, the people…

_She had been walking with a tall woman…_

_Who was the woman?_

_Who had she gone with?_

'_I really don't know.' _said Mia miserably.

Alexannah stared at her disbelievingly.

'Whatever you say.' she said sceptically. Mia could tell she did not believe her. 'I do think you should see the matron, once we reach Hogwarts.'

'Yeah, maybe I should. I _was_ feeling kind of dazed on the platform.'

'Maybe you're just excited. You might remember tomorrow.' said Alexannah bracingly.

Mia smiled at her new friend gratefully.

Their silence was broken by the arrival of a plump lady with the food trolley. She waited patiently while they placed an enormous order of Chocolate Frogs, Sugar Mice, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and Acid Pops.

'Well' said Alexannah through a mouthful of Chocolate. She had taken all the cards so far, Mia had insisted on this, since she didn't collect them anyways.

'What?' said Mia carefully picking up a red coloured toffee from the box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. So far she had come across lime, apple, spinach and chicken Alexannah hadn't been so lucky, she had come across an ear-wax flavoured one and hadn't taken touched the box since.

'Do you know who "you-know-who" is?' Mia asked her, suddenly remembering what Charlie had said earlier that day.

Alexannah almost spat the chocolate on her face.

'You don't know "you-know-who"?' she asked incredulously.

'How am I supposed to know?' she said crossly. 'And why do you keep calling him "you-know- who"? I don't even know him. Or her.'

Alexannah's cheery face darkened considerably. 'He's a Dark wizard. Evil and ruthless, he is. He's killed loads of people. 'specially Muggles and Muggle-borns. He has supporters too. Death-eaters, they're called. There are terrible as he is. The whole wizarding community lives in fear of him. No one has been able to defeat him yet. The only person who probably can, –'

She stopped mid-sentence, pulled out a Chocolate Frog Card from under the mess of wrappers and empty boxes and thrust it at Mia's face.

'Albus Dumbledore.' she said happily. 'So while he's here, we're safe at Hogwarts.'

Mia took the card from her friend and read,

' **_ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_**_   
Currently Headmaster of Hogwarts._

_Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard __Grindelwald__ in 1945, for the discovery of the __twelve uses of dragon's blood__, and his work on alchemy with his partner, __Nicolas Flamel__. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.'_

She turned the card to see a picture of an elderly wizard smiling serenely at her. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, piercingly blue eyes, and flowing auburn hair, beard, and moustache.

'Can I keep this?' she asked Alexannah, who had been eyeing her intently.

'Sure.' she replied.

Mia and Alexannah spent the rest of their time playing wizard chess, which Mia was rather bad at. When darkness had engulfed the speeding countryside outside, the compartment door slid open for the fourth time that day. Mia looked up to see Charlie smiling at her.

'You girls, better put on your robes.' he said. 'We'll be there in half an hour.'

'Thanks, Charlie.' Mia called out to him.

'Your friend ?' Alexannah asked her as she pulled out her robes from her trunk.

Mia nodded as she pulled on her black robes, wondering what surprises the remainder of the day would bring her.

**A/N:**Hope you liked the chapter. I didn't. I had written it in another way at first, but I had to change it. Then again, I didn't have the heart to rewrite the whole chapter, so I just made some changes. So, some things probably don't fit in as well as they should. If the reviews are bad I'll probably rewrite the chapter. The details may seem unimportant, but they are crucial for the story as a whole. The next one will be up, as soon as this one is reviewed, cause I have to know if the details fit in or not. Reviews are always appreciated (and sorely needed). Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3 The Metamorphmagus

**Author's Note** – Heyy! Third chappie is up! Hope you like it!

**Disclaimers** – The usual 'I don't own this stuff, J.K does.' Unfortunately. 

**Chapter 3 – The Metamorphmagus**

Alexannah had her nose pressed up against the window of the Hogwarts Express as she caught the last glimpses of the speeding countryside, before they arrived at Hogwarts. Mia was straightening her robes and was sordidly staring at her reflection in a small looking glass Alexannah had lent her.

'Brown really doesn't suit me, does it?' Mia asked her after a few silent minutes of examining the overall effect her chestnut brown hair had on the rest of her looks.

'Even if it doesn't, there's nothing you can do otherwise.' Alexannah replied vaguely from the window. She was still absorbed in the scenery outside.

'Of course I can!' Mia said disdainfully. She shut her eyes tightly for a minute and –

'WHAT DID YOU DO?'

Alexannah was staring at Mia with her mouth wide open and a very confused expression on her pretty face.

'Reverted back to my normal appearance.' Mia replied coolly. She twirled a strand of her now-auburn hair daintily with her finger. 'What's wrong with that?'

Alexannah ignored her question. Instead she asked, 'You can change your appearance whenever you want?'

Mia nodded. 'Absolutely. It's really easy. I bet you can do it as well. You just close your eyes and concentrate really hard on what you want to look like-'

She broke off when she saw Alexannah's contemptuous expression. 'What?'

'You're a Metamorphmagus.'

'Excuse me?'

'You're a Metamorphmagus.' Alexannah repeated blankly. 'That is so cool.'

'Are you ever going to bother to tell me what a Morphymetamagus is?'

'Metamorphmagus. It means you can change your appearance at will. Metamorphmagi are really rare. You can't become one, you're just born like that.' Alexannah explained patiently.

'Right.'

'You are so lucky!'

Mia sighed. 'I thought everyone could do that.'

Alexannah shook her head.

'Wait!' she cried suddenly.

'What?'

'You're a Metamorphmagus, right?' Alexannah asked.

Mia nodded uncertainly. 'That's what you just told me.' she replied.

'Which means you have magical parents!' she concluded excitedly.

'How can you be so sure?' Mia queried. She was utterly baffled by her friend's sudden conclusion.

'My mother is a Healer at St. Mungo's, the wizarding hospital.'

Mia nodded. She had heard of St. Mungo's, though she could not clearly recollect where.

'When Metamorphmagi are born their hair colour changes rapidly almost every hour.' She explained good-naturedly. 'Imagine what a Muggle would think if his new-born's hair turns pink, and brown and…'

'Oh.' Mia replied, comprehension dawning across her pale face. She was slightly comforted by the fact that at least one of her parents had been a witch or wizard. It was not that she minded being a Muggle–born, she was still worried by the fact that she couldn't remember where she had been twenty-four hours ago.

'You'll remember.' Alexannah called from the window ledge.

**A/N**: I know the chapter is short, they next one is too. The fifth will be a bit long though, I'll put it up soon. Please review!


	4. Chapter 4 The uninvited visitors

**Author's Note **– Heyy! I newly dedicate this story to _lady clark of books _and I would like to specially thank her (or is it him. It's _lady clark of books_, so I presume it's her) for being the first (and only one) to review. Also, thanks to _gynji _and_ DA-DADA.Witch _for reading the story (can you please review it as well.) Hope you enjoy!

**Greetings**- Belated Merry Christmas to All my Readers!

**Disclaimers** – The Harry Potter world is not mine. I'm just playing in it!

**Author's Note to **_**lady clark of books **_**– **Am I that bad at suspense? What gave it away? Never mind. Your theory just might work...See this chappie for more ;) Thanks a lot for your review. It was really encouraging.

**Chapter 4 – The uninvited visitors**

Minerva McGonagall walked down the corridors, her emerald green cloak fluttering behind her. She took a sharp turn around the edge of a narrow, desolate passage way and stood resolutely in front of a seemingly blank wall. Pulling out her wand from her robes, she tapped it gently against the cold stone of the wall and murmured something inaudible.

The blank wall instantly transformed into a large oak door flanked by two intricate carvings of wood nymphs on stone. Sighing, she muttered the password to the nymphs and walked through the opened doors into a large room, wondering, not for the first time, if such stringent security measures were even essential.

Glancing around the room, she found it in almost the same condition as she had left it eleven years ago. The wallpaper was peeling of in odd places and the room was a bit dusty, but that could be fixed with a swish of her wand.

Having returned her rightful chambers to its former glory, Minerva flopped on the oriental chintz chair in the corner of her room. Her luggage had been neatly stacked in a secluded corner of the room, no doubt by some house elf. Minerva wondered if it was Cipher, the house elf who had been assigned to her when she had been working at Hogwarts, nearly a decade ago.

Staring at the newly lit fire in the grate and the old bookcases and furniture, Minerva could not help but joyously remember her old times at Hogwarts. It had always been her second home…

_Her childhood, teenage years, adulthood…_

A loud and abrupt knock on the door interrupted Minerva's thoughts, causing her to sit up so suddenly that she almost cricked her neck.

'Minerva?' called a not-too-unfamiliar voice.

Minerva stood up and hastily dusted her emerald green robes, thankful that she had not bothered to remove it earlier. Walking up to the door in her usual elegant fashion, she opened it and found her self face to face with her former mentor and colleague, Horace Slughorn.

'Evening, Horace.' she said, politely inviting him into the newly refurbished room.

Horace smiled jovially at the witch and walked stoutly into the room. He pulled out his wand and conjured another chintz chair to match the one in the room and sat on it comfortably.

'Ah, yes Minerva. There was a rumour that you might return.' he said after she had taken a seat opposite him. 'See, Penelope left last year.'

'Rumour?' Minerva asked, slightly perplexed.

'Yes. You see, the staff aren't informed earlier of new arrivals.' he responded. 'I must say, it's quite a pleasure to meet you again after almost a decade.'

Minerva nodded slowly. She had been looking forward to spending the first day of her return to Hogwarts alone, but she could see no polite way of letting Horace know this without hurting his feelings. So, she decided, it was best to let him continue.

'How was your trip to America?' he asked her, rather unexpectedly.

Minerva was not entirely sure she had heard him correctly. After all, when had she ever gone to America?

'I beg your pardon?'

'How was your trip to America?' he repeated. 'Albus told us after you left that you were going to America for personal reasons.'

Minerva heaved a sigh. Trust Albus to come up with such atypical excuses.

'Great!' she said shortly, sounding thoroughly unenthusiastic. She was hoping against hope that Horace would not ask her anymore questions about her alleged trip. Seeing that she had never been to America in the first place, she had no way of answering any of his questions correctly without consequently giving away the truth.

'Did you see-' he began.

What Minerva was supposed to have seen, she never found out (for which she was very thankful) for at that moment a sharp knock at the door interrupted Horace's question.

'Excuse me.' Minerva called out to him as she walked to the door for the second time that evening, wondering which uninvited guest was about to trespass her hospitality once more.

The opened door revealed a tall witch in blood red robes with long blonde hair and black eyes. She had a slightly anxious look on her pale face as she surveyed the witch in front of her.

'Leto?'

'Ah, Minerva. A long time since we last met. I knew you'd return.' the witch on blood red robes replied warmly, shaking Minerva's hand.

'Why don't you come in?' Minerva said smiling at the Care of Magical Creatures teacher and Head of Hufflepuff House.

Leto returned the smile gratefully as she walked in. 'Yes, but I really can't stay for long.'

Minerva obligingly conjured another chintz chair, by which time Leto had already noticed the other occupant of the room.

'Horace?' she said, obviously surprised. 'I suppose you told her?'

Slughorn flushed but Minerva was intrigued.

'Told me what?' Minerva asked curiously.

Leto simply ignored her query and shot a very disgusted glare at Horace.

'You didn't tell her?' she asked in disbelief. 'Such important news, Horace, my word, I expected better from you.'

Horace merely looked ashamed. 'I was just inquiring about-'

'Well, Minerva' she said cutting off Horace smoothly. 'I suppose you have the right to know, seeing as Horace here didn't have the grace tell you-'

She shot another appalled glare at him.

'A couple of Dementors were found lurking somewhere en route the Hogwarts Express. Boris Billows saw them, he was on his broom. This was obviously a threat to the students, the Aurors were informed and the Dementors are safely out of the way now. The train however, didn't stop, it merely slowed down, so I expect this evenings schedule will be delayed by half an hour or so, that is _if_ Albus agrees.'

Minerva nodded grimly as Leto concluded her bit of news.

_There was no need to worry, the Aurors had driven them away, she already knew how to defend herself…_

'Minerva?'

Minerva snapped out of her reverie and glanced at Leto.

'I presume you're still Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor?' she queried.

'Yes, Leto. I still am.'

'Well Minerva, I'm afraid I shall trespass no more on your hospitality. Good day.' she said briskly.

'Thank you for informing me, Leto.' Minerva responded, leading her to the door. 'The like to you.'

'I'm afraid I shall go as well.' Horace proclaimed, standing up. He still looked flustered and was carefully avoiding eye contact with Leto.

'Ah, yes. Good day, Horace.' Minerva said politely, trying very hard not to laugh.

Watching Leto close the door behind her as they both left, Minerva felt her brief spell of happiness vanish as quickly as it had come. She sank once more into the oriental chintz chair, the blazing fire reflecting in her startlingly green eyes, her mind swirling with thoughts and reminiscences.

**A/N:** I have no idea if the chapter is good or not, but I wanted a small chappie about Minerva McGonagall, so here it is. There's a major clue in the chapter, see if you can spot it (lady clark of books, this may answer your question.) Thanks for reading. Please, please, please review!

**PS:** Leto's full name is Leto Kettleburn. She teaches Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts and is the Head of Hufflepuff House.


	5. Chapter 5 The arrival

**Author's Note** – Heyy! Sorry, I haven't updated this for so long, but I've had a pretty busy week. We had guests from New Zealand earlier, and then I spent a day at the mall, watching the Golden Compass (I won't recommend it, it's a mix-up of the stories of Lord of the Rings, Chronicles of Narnia and Tomb Raider, and some aspects of Harry Potter as well so it's all a big clutter!) and then I had an eye test, after which the doctor banned my from using the computer for two days. And so finally! Enjoy!

**Disclaimers** – If I were JK, I'd probably been rolling in dollars! But, no! I'm not.

**Chapter 5 – The arrival**

'What do you reckon?'

Alexannah had been acting rather weirdly ever since Charlie had arrived at their compartment door and informed them that the train would be arriving in half an hour at their final destination. Earlier on, she had taken to gazing at the rushing countryside through the sole window in their train compartment. Now, however she was glaring fixedly at her painted nails, as though they were responsible for all her troubles and sorrows.

'What's with you?' Mia finally asked, having observed her companion's vexing behaviour for the last quarter of an hour.

'Nothing.' Alexannah replied shortly. 'I was just thinking about the Sorting.'

Mia smirked. 'You're worried about the Sorting?' she asked dubiously.

'It's just-' she broke off and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. 'My mom would be really happy if I'm put in Ravenclaw. Only, I don't think I'll be in Ravenclaw. See, I never really inherited my mom's brains or anything. Alexandra's the genius of the family.' She sighed morosely.

'Is it relevant? I mean, does it really matter which house you're Sorted into? You'll still be the same and we'll still be friends. Won't we?' Mia added worriedly.

'Of course we will.' she said reassuringly. 'It's just that you spend all your school years with your housemates and-' She buried her face into her hands.

Mia put her arms around her friend's shoulders comfortingly. 'Look, don't worry. You can't change what is to come. Just don't worry about it, okay? Your mother will understand.' She smiled placatingly at her distressed friend.

Alexannah looked up at Mia. 'If you had a choice, which house would you choose?' she asked quietly.

'Gryffindor.' Mia provided at once. 'But let's not worry about the Sorting.' She glanced briefly outside the windowsill. 'We should get ready to leave, you know.'

Alexannah sat up and dragged her trunk from under the seat and dumped it on the top. Then, she pulled her wickerwork basket from next to her and placed it carefully on her lap. Mia did the same, after which she picked up her owl cage and amused herself with the tawny owl.

At last the train slowed down and they heard the loud racket up and down as everyone scrambled to get their pets and luggage assembled, ready to get off. Alexannah shot a nervous smile at Mia.

'I suppose this is it, then.' she said softly. Mia nodded, pressing her forehead against the train window to get a first distant glimpse of Hogwarts, but it was a moonless night, so she pulled her head back in.

The train had finally arrived, puff of smoke billowing out of it, at what, Alexannah had told Mia earlier on, was called Hogsmeade Station. Leaving their luggage and shooting nervous grins at each other, they shuffled out of their tiny compartment and made their way out of the train, feeling the first sting of cold night air against their faces as they joined the crowd outside.

The sky was cloudy and moonless as Mia and Alexannah followed the large throng of babbling Hogwarts students off the train. Mia could make out the tops of the silhouetted pine trees away in the distance, beside what was undoubtedly a large, eerie lake.

'Firs' –years over 'ere, please…firs' years…'

A loud gruffly voice called out from somewhere near the lake, disrupting the eerie silence of the chilly night. Mia grasped Alexannah's hand firmly and marched across the platform towards the source of the voice, where a large beetle-eyed man stood around a crowd of timid looking first years. They stopped and waited until all the first years had gathered around the man; then watched and followed him as he walked artfully along a narrow path that led through the trees down to the bank of the eerie black lake.

Mia gaped; Alexannah had just spun and her heel and shrieked excitedly. Then had just caught their first glimpse of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It was a huge, rambling castle, a jumble of numerous towers and battlements silhouetted against the dark, cloudy sky. Mia rubbed her temples with her palms.

_She had seen this before…_

_Like in a dream…_

_Or in a dream of a dream..._

'Its magnificent, isn't it?' Alexannah whispered wordlessly. Mia nodded silently. She just wanted to savour the moment, remember it forever…

'Mia!' Alexannah called out loudly, after what seemed like ages, distracting her from her thoughts. She grabbed her hand and pulled her to the edge of the lake, where small boats were bobbing up and down in the silent waters.

'We're supposed to sit in!' she said frantically pushing her into the only boat which was not completely occupied. Mia sat in willingly; her mind had lost all it's impulse to do anything but stare at the glorious castle in front of her.

She was so pre-occupied with the splendour of the scene that she did not notice the other occupiers of the tiny boat which they shared. She had eyes for nothing but the castle…

That would change. Soon.

**A/N:** Seems like another totally useless chapter with nothing but a big, boring conversation and an arrival. Bah! I probably can't update this soon 'cause school starts on Jan 6**th** here and an Algebra assignment and loads of projects to do plus a New Year's party to attend. I'll try my best but please don't be mad at me for not updating sooner. And please, please, please review!


	6. Chapter 6 Brunettes on the boat

**Author's Note**** – **A chappie written very hastily, so don't mind if it's bad. I grabbed this opportunity when my folks went out to the movies, but I needed to finish my project as well, (help, school's in 5 days!) and so, the haste. This chapter has introductions to two pivotal characters in Mia's life, so hope you enjoy! And please, please, please take the time to review! (Six chapters and two reviews is not exactly encouraging, and this being my first fan fiction, goes to show just how inexperienced I am, so I'll probably give up on thestory for lack of feedback. A little encouragement goes a long way to help, see.)

**Disclaimers**- If I were JK, I probably wouldn't be writing fanfiction.

**Chapter 6 – Brunettes on the boat**

'Excuse me?'

The voice seemed to come from directly from Mia's right. It was spoken in a fluttery, high-pitched, girlish voice in a horribly, honeyed tone sounded falsely and poisonously sweet. Mia was so taken aback by the tone that for the first time that evening, she pulled her eyes off the huge, looming castle in front of her and turned to survey the other occupants of the small boat which they shared, as it floated serenely on the rippling, black waters of the lake.

Mia spun around; the first thing she discerned was that Alexannah seemed to be fighting the impulse to laugh. Mia wondered why; a split second later, she found that she couldn't really blame her companion.

The girl who had addressed her unmistakably resembled nothing but a large, pale toad. She was squat, with a broad, flabby face and a neck that disappeared almost instantly into her equally broad shoulders. Her eyes were large, round and slightly protuberant. A little black velvet bow was perched on top of her short, curly, mousy brown hair as she smiled smugly at Mia, completely ignoring Alexannah, who now resembled a person with a stuffed tomato in their mouth. Mia was so bowled over by her flaccid appearance that she failed to notice the girl standing right beside her.

'Erm…' Mia broke the silence, thinking it would be inappropriate to stare at someone for so long. She could not say anymore; 'erm' was all she could manage while fighting down the desirous inclination to burst out laughing.

'I was just wondering, seeing as we are about to attend the same institution, and we _are_ travelling in the same boat, if we could get to know each other _properly._ Not that it's really necessary, of course.' she simpered sweetly, directly addressing Mia. 'Dolores Jane Umbridge. Pure-blood.' she said holding out a small stubby hand for Mia to shake.

'Er, yes.' she replied taking Dolores' hand. Her urge to laugh had vanished instantaneously, the conversation had gone back to her origin; something that she had forgotten, being so pre-occupied with the beauty of the scene. She felt all the memories of her conversation on the train with Alexannah, come flooding back with a sickening thud.

'Mia Bridger.' she provided as she felt Dolores' stumpy hand clasp around her own. 'I think I'm a … half blood.' she said finally.

Dolores pulled her hand back quickly as though she had just been stung by a bee.

'Yes, I see.' she simpered, her voice falsely sweet. Turning to Alexannah, she did the same.

'And you will be?'

'Alexannah Truman.' Alexannah supplied her mother's maiden name, not wishing to tell Dolores her life-story. 'Pure blood.'

'Ah, yes.' Dolores cooed admiringly while Alexannah surveyed her squalidly. Finally, she turned to the other girl in the ferry; the only one Mia had failed to notice yet.

She was fairly tall with pretty, brown eyes, honey coloured skin and long, wavy brown hair pulled back neatly into a ponytail. Mia, at once took a liking to this shy, unknown stranger.

Dolores, in contrast, did not hold her hand, but instead looked at the girl distastefully. 'You'll be the Mudblood on the train, huh?' she said, rather nastily.

'DON'T YOU DARE CALL HER A MUDBLOOD!'

Alexannah had yelled so loudly, that both Mia and Dolores turned to stare in her direction; while the other girl simply looked politely puzzled.

'Oh really? And what are you going to do if I do? You should be proud of yourself. After all you are _a pureblood_.' she told Alexannah, who had turned a brilliant shade of scarlet. 'Never shy away for _filth.'_

'My genealogy is none of your business.' Alexannah snapped reprovingly at her. She pulled the other girl towards her and said sharply, 'Neither is hers.'

Dolores shot a sweeping, icy glare and turned her back on them to face the huge, lumbering castle. Mia had turned to the shy girl.

'What's your name?' she asked her kindly.

'Cornelia Hale.' she supplied, smiling shyly.

'Right.' interjected Alexannah, who only just stopped glaring at Dolores' turned back. 'Ignore her.'

Mia nodded at her enraged comrade, grinning faintly. Looks like they had just made a new friend and an enemy.

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Cornelia, it transpired, hadn't the faintest idea what a Mudblood was. Neither did Mia, for that matter, though she did not admit it, but she was glad when Cornelia quaveringly asked a fuming Alexannah what it meant.

'You don't know?' she had hissed under her breath when Cornelia had finally popped the question. 'I suppose not. It's a really offensive term for Muggle-born. It means…_filthy blood_.' she finished, looking slightly apologetic.

'Oh!' Cornelia and Mia responded in unison, the former looking slightly hurt.

'Don't worry.' Alexannah said bracingly. 'It's only fatheads-' she glowered in Dolores' direction; '-who use such words.'

Mia put her arm around Cornelia's shoulder comfortingly, but Cornelia only smiled.

'Chris did warn me that something like that might happen. But he said only the Slytherins did that.' she said, shooting a grateful smile at Mia. Mia was a bit stunned by the fact that a Muggle-born knew so much.

'Mmm.' Alexannah hummed thoughtfully. 'I'll bet you anything, she's a future Slytherin.' she told them, finally. 'Who's Chris?'

'He's my older brother. Christopher Hale. Fourth year in Gryffindor.' she replied. 'He told me a lot about Hogwarts.' she continued, answering Mia's unasked question. 'He wouldn't, however tell me, how we're Sorted.'

'Neither would my mom.' Alexannah responded glumly. 'Said it spoils the surprises.'

'We'll find out soon enough.' Mia called to both of them, who, being so pre-occupied with their prattle, had failed to notice that they had almost arrived at their destination. 'We're almost there.'

The trio turned to face the looming sight of Hogwarts castle, a huge smile plastered on each of their eager faces.

**A/N:** Next chapter comes with the arrival, Mia's first glimpse of Hogwarts from the inside, the Sorting, Nearly-Headless Nick and Albus Dumbledore. The chappie is titled – **Hats, Heads and Headmasters**. Can't wait to put it up. Thanks for reading. Oh yeah, and please take the time to review.

_**HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL !!**_


	7. Chapter 7 Hats, Heads and Headmasters

**Author's Note** – Yahoo! My favourite chappie by far. Summary is given at the end of the last chapter. Enjoy and review! (I've updated my profile page so you might want to check that out…) Oh yeah, the chapter is quite long, so beware.

**Disclaimers** – As always it's JK's, not mine.

**Chapter 7 – Hats, Heads and Headmasters**

The beetle-eyed giant of a man had helped the struggling first years out of their ferries, as they arrived at the other shore of the enormous, rippling, lake. Mia helped Alexannah and Cornelia out, pointedly taking no notice of Dolores, who had spotted a very sour expression when Mia didn't lend her a hand of assistance.

He led the group across a vivid, green lawn, where the stunned first years caught their first close-up view of the great towering castle.

'It's … incredible!' Alexannah breathed in a stunned Mia's ear.

'I know.' Cornelia agreed, nodding her head sanctimoniously. 'It's even better that Chris made it out to be.'

'I suppose nothing can make up for actually seeing the place, can it?' Mia whispered to the gaping girls.

The huge man had swerved sharply around the corner, leading the gibbering group into a small but well-lit landing close to the entrance of the school. Alexannah had nudged Mia and Cornelia sharply; Mia stifled an 'ouch' and instead, turned to gaze at what had intrigued her friend.

A tall, stately looking witch stood before them, dressed in magnificent emerald green robes that reflected her green eyes. She had dark, raven black hair, pulled back into a tight bun; and the first thought that entered Mia's mind was that she was not someone to be crossed. She couldn't however suppress the feeling that she had seen this lady before…

''ere they are, Professor.' the beetle- eyed man called out to the witch cheerily.

Her green eyes swept the crowd of timid first years before she addressed the huge man.

'Thank you, Hagrid.' she replied briskly, as the man waved a dustbin-lid sized hand at her, before lumbering towards the castle.

'Pleasure!' he called out breezily.

Mia watched the huge man shuffle into the darkness; when she turned back, the witch was surveying the anticipating first years with mild interest.

Finally, she briskly addressed the crowd, 'I suppose you are eagerly looking forward towards your first glimpse of Hogwarts tonight and in that you shall not be disappointed. However, first the Sorting shall take place. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room. Each House was established a one of the four founders of Hogwarts and prizes some noble qualities over others. The Sorting shall begin in the Great Hall shortly. I shall be back in a few minutes; in the mean while, I propose you tidy yourselves and smarten up for the ceremony.'

With that she spun on her heel and traipsed off towards a narrow passage way across the small landing.

Mia turned to Alexannah.

'How should I attend the Sorting?' she asked worriedly, twisting a strand of her auburn hair in her finger, daintily.

'As your normal self.' Alexannah supplied firmly. 'They might not recognize you if you go as … someone else.'

Mia smirked; she did however follow Alexannah's counsel and revert her eyes back to its original piercingly green colour.

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The rest of the evening passed rather smoothly. The stately witch had returned shortly after, smiling gently at them all, before marching them into the front of the Great Hall.

Alexannah, Cornelia and Mia gasped inaudibly; the Hall was huge, with four, elongated house tables in the middle and a staff table in the front. The ceiling of the Hall resembled the sky outside; moonless and cloudy. Mia glimpsed briefly the sea of Hogwarts students clad in black robes, their gabbling had stopped instantaneously as the witch had entered the Hall, and instead they focused their attention on her and the panicky first years. Mia wished they would stop doing this; as a habit she never really felt nervous, although it is nice not to have the students of an entire institution gawking at you.

Mia turned her focus to the center of the Hall, where an extremely old, patched and frayed hat had been placed on top of a small, rickety, wooden stool. Mia was a bit surprised by this; it was, however, nothing compared to the shock she received when a small tear near the brim of the Hat opened and it began to sing.

'In times of the old…'

Mia wasn't actually paying attention to the Hat's song; seeing as it outlined what Charlie had already told her on the train. Nevertheless, she let her gaze linger on the stunning candlelight in the hall, the starless ceiling, the house tables, the staff table…

The witch's sharp voice cut though Mia's thoughts like a knife.

'When I call out your names, you shall sit on the stool and put the hat on your head. Am I clear?'

Her gaze swept the Hall as they nodded timidly; she then turned back to the first years.

'Abbott, Geoffrey.' she called out clearly.

A pale-looking boy with a shock of silvery blonde hair walked up to the rickety, wooden stool and placed the ancient hat on the top of his trembling head.

'HUFFLEPUFF!' the hat screamed to the crowd. The boy smiled, obviously with relief as he swaggered to the Hufflepuff house table.

'Alves, Peggoty.' she announced loudly.

'Ravenclaw.' yelled the hat.

'Appleton, Natasha.'

'Ravenclaw!' it repeated firmly.

'Black, Andromeda.'

'Slytherin.'

Mia was trying very hard to pay attention; yet the hall was so full of distractions that she was finding the task, rather tedious.

'Bones, Vanessa.'

'Hufflepuff.' the hat called out.

'Boot, Timothy.' the witch said.

Mia crossed her fingers impatiently, hoping she was next.

'Hufflepuff.' it proclaimed to the Hall.

'Bridger, _Mia_.' The witch's tone had changed this time, yet Mia was so inattentive that she had failed to notice this.

Walking up to the ancient stool, she jammed the hat eagerly on the top of her auburn locks. The hat had barely touched her tip of her head, when it yelled triumphantly to the audience,

'GRYFFINDOR!'

Heaving a sigh, Mia caught the witch's eyes confidently and smiled at her, as she walked to the Gryffindor table amidst much applause. Charlie Whitman was waving at her, and made space for her as she approached the table.

'Well done.' he mumbled in her ear, as the next quivering first year, Mark Brown shuffled unsteadily towards the hat.

Mia watched on fervently, shooting reassuring looks at Cornelia and Alexannah every now and then as student after student walked to the rickety stool. She was the only first year in Gryffindor, so far.

'Hale, Cornelia.' the witch called out.

Cornelia had crossed her fingers, and mumbling under her breath she walked to the stool and placed the frayed article on her wavy, brown hair.

'Gryffindor!' the hat announced to the Hall, after a few seconds.

Cornelia hastily put the hat down, shot Mia and a boy at the Gryffindor table bright, genuine smiles, as she walked to them, sitting right next to Mia.

'I was really nervous…' she murmured as more first years lined up, eagerly awaiting their turn.

'Yeah, I kind of figured that out.' Mia told her, grinning.

'Prince, Eileen.' A tall girl with jet black hair walked towards the stool. Minutes later, she was at the Slytherin table.

Alexannah, meanwhile, was impatiently awaiting her turn, fidgeting nervously with her fingers and shooting panicky glances at her friends every now and then.

Finally, the stately witch pronounced,

'Truman, Alexannah.'

Alexannah staggered to the hat apprehensively and put it on.

'Gryffindor!' it yelled after a few silent minutes.

Alexannah was so happy she practically threw the hat back and skipped merrily towards Gryffindor table. Grabbing Mia and Cornelia's hands, she squeezed it happily.

'I made it!' She smiled at Mia and Cornelia's beaming faces.

Dolores, as Alexannah had predicted, and much to the trio's glee had ended up in Slytherin ('where she truly belongs… nasty piece of work…' Alexannah murmured, glowering.)

When Ulrich Zorn was sorted into the same house, the witch clad in green rolled up the long piece of parchment from which she had been reading the names, picked up the frayed hat from the stool and walked up gracefully towards the staff table.

When she had finally taken a seat at the table, a tall man with a flowing auburn beard and twinkling blue eyes stood up to address the chattering throng.

'It's Albus Dumbledore!' Mia breathed, totally surprised.

'Of course.' Alexannah replied scornfully. 'I told you on the train that he was the Headmaster, didn't I?'

The tall man gazed happily at the students and pronounced in a ringing voice, his arms outstretched, 'To all the new students, welcome. And the old students welcome back. Before we listen to an old man's drone, how about _dinner_!'

His words received a loud round of applause from the entire student body and before Mia's very eyes, dishes appeared out of nowhere on the house table. Mia turned to Alexannah, the food completely forgotten.

'He's rather nice, isn't he?' she asked Alexannah whose mouth was already stuffed with food.

'Ow ya hews wather nwce.' she blurted out through a mouthful of meat pie.

'Excuse me?' Cornelia piped up, looking highly affronted.

Gulping down the food hastily, she repeated, 'Yeah, he's rather nice. Nothing like a famous man, at all. Er…aren't you going to eat anything?' she said, gesturing towards Mia's empty plate.

'Oh right!' Mia responded, immediately piling her plate with generous helping of the various dishes laden on the groaning table and then sitting down to eat. She was half way through, when someone called out-

'Ah yes! The first Gryffindor of the year! Miss Bridger, I presume.'

Cornelia almost choked on her pumpkin juice in shock; a pearl white, translucent figure was floating serenely towards where the trio were dining, he smiled broadly at them, his gaze lingering the longest on Mia.

'Er… not meaning to be rude or anything, but who exactly are you?' Alexannah had recovered first from the shock of seeing a real ghost.

'Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington.' he replied pretentiously. 'The _ghost_ of Gryffindor house.'

'He means Nearly-Headless Nick.' Charlie guffawed from beside Cornelia.

'How can he be nearly headless?' a first year named Peterson Wood queried curiously, from across the table.

'Like this.' Nick supplied unhelpfully. He wrenched his hair slightly with a pearly white hand and his head tilted to the side, wobbling perilously. For a moment it looked as though his head was about to fall off; it did not though, a small piece of flesh held it in place. 'I was hoping this year's first years wouldn't ask.' he said sighing wearily as he put his head back in place. 'Speaking of which, I hope you'll are up to scratch. I'd like to see Gryffindor with the house cup this year. And I see-' his gaze loitered on the staff table, before he turned back to the students. '- Professor McGonagall is back.' he said finally, smiling at no one in particular.

'She is?' someone asked vaguely.

For an answer, Nick simply pointed to the witch in emerald green, who was now in deep conversation with Professor Dumbledore. The speaker, it turned out, was Christopher Hale, Cornelia's brother. He greatly resembled his sister except for the fact that his hair was straight, short and very untidy. He had a broad grin and an exceptionally cheery face.

'She used to teach Adrian's brother, about … eleven years ago.' he said knowingly, frowning slightly. 'Then, she left and we were stuck with' - he made a face – 'Professor Reed. And now, I see, she's back. What sort of a teacher is she, Nick?' he questioned the ghost.

'You'll see…' he called, dreamily floating away towards the Ravenclaw table.

'Hmph!' Christopher snorted grumpily. 'Always disappears when you ask him something.'

Beside her, Cornelia stifled a giggle. She had been draining the last dregs of her pumpkin juice, when Nick had left.

'That's Chris.' she said knowledgably. 'One moment he's smiling, the next moment he's cranky. Totally unpredictable.'

She rolled her eyes as Mia smiled. The dishes had vanished as Alexannah had been serving her self with what was left of the splendid plum pudding. Grinning impishly, as Mia caught her eye, she turned to face Professor Dumbledore, who had just left his seat, obviously intending to address the throng.

'And now that we are all digesting another glorious feast, I beg a few minutes of your attention for the usual start-of–term notices.' said Dumbledore. 'First years, ought to know that the Forbidden Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students. Mr. Darin, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, as are a number of things. The complete list is, as now, fastened to Mr. Darin's office door.'

'We have two new changes in the staff this year – Professor Chandler, here will be taking up the Defence against Dark Arts classes.' He indicated a grouch looking man sitting at the farthest end of the staff table. There was a round of polite, but fairly unenthusiastic applause.

'And I am pleased to welcome back, Professor McGonagall; who will be teaching Transfiguration and taking up her former post of Deputy Headmistress and head of Gryffindor house-'

The students at the Gryffindor had broken in a thunderous applause; Christopher and the other older students were exchanging wide smiles, others, looks of relief. Mia, Cornelia and Alexannah had joined in; as did the students at the other house tables. It couldn't have been clearer that the previous teacher had been unpopular.

'Finally - ,' Dumbledore was having some difficulty making himself heard over the din; he turned and caught Professor McGonagall's eye, beaming at her and she smiled back.

'- Quidditch tryouts shall be held on dates fixed by the individual house captains, which shall be put up on the notice boards in your respective common rooms.'

Dumbledore turned his back on them; he had just dismissed the school, judging by the large amount of clattering and banging around them. Alexannah turned to Mia, yawning widely, oblivious to all the commotion.

'Can't wait to go to bed.' she said groggily. 'It's been a super day, what say?'

'Totally.' Cornelia nodded back. 'I'm still looking forward to bed, though. And I think we better follow the other first years…'

A tall boy with ruffled, brown hair and a deep, booming voice, with a gleaming batch pinned on the front of his black robes, was shepherding the lined-up first years, obviously towards their common rooms. Mia, Cornelia and Alexannah fell in line with their gossiping house-mates; the latter two, looking forward to bed; the former, feeling anything but sleepy.

**A/N:** My longest chapter yet, hope you like it, please review. Next chapter, titled – **Midnight Prowls**, where Mia tries to explore Hogwarts at midnight on this same day and bumps into…(guess who?), should be up by next week. See you!


	8. Chapter 8 Midnight Prowls

**Author's Note**- A huge thanks to **lady clark of books, CJmynixMG and BIGHROCKS** for their valuable reviews; it really means the world to me! Guys, sorry I can't reply to you personally, so here are the individual replies-

**1) Lady clark of books – **What can I say? Either you are excellent are guesswork; or I'm bad at suspense (Okay, maybe that _was_ kinda obvious.) Sorry, but as much as I'd love to kill Umbridge, I really can't cause a) I don't want Mia to be a murderer and b) because she appears in OotP. Er ya, the 'dream of a dream' thing, that's my favourite line too, but it's taken from my favourite movie Chronicles of Narnia (But please don't sue me! ;) And thanks for replying to all my queries; sorry if I bothered you!

**2) CJmynixMG – **Well, I thought the sudden ending sounded good, so I just left it there. You sure have a lot of questions. I am really sorry to keep you waiting; but it'll ruin the story if I tell you every thing now. You can try guessing the answers; _some_ of your questions may be answered in Chapter 10 or 11; so watch out for it. Rest assured, you will understand as the story unfolds.

**3) BIGHROCKS – **You haven't really asked anything; but thanks for the review all the same. I really appreciate it.

I though you guys were bored with my descriptions of every minor event; but I can't bring myself to skip anything.

**Chapter 8 – Midnight Prowls**

'Aw, come on…' Mia pleaded with the scowling portrait of the Fat Lady.

It was past midnight; Mia standing outside the Gryffindor common room in a pale pink dressing gown; her auburn hair, tousled - fighting a losing battle with the half asleep portrait of the Fat Lady.

'Please let me in…' she said imploringly, wringing her hands at the annoyed portrait.

'No password; no entry.' the Fat lady countered firmly, crossing her arms across her pink frill-covered chest.

'But I don't know the password!' Mia wailed morosely. 'How can I give it to you? And I can't spend the night _outside the common room_.'

'You should have thought before you left.' the fat lady told her resolutely. 'Walking out at midnight and returning back asking me to let her enter without a password…Hmph!' she sniffed disdainfully.

'But it's only my first night here.' Mia asserted in self defence. 'And I just went to the bathroom…'

'A likely story. I repeat, no password; no entry.' she repeated tartly, returning to her slumber.

Shooting a last mutinous glance at the snoring portrayal, Mia marched away from the common rooms, scowling malevolently.

It had been a little earlier than midnight; when Mia had woken up, with the urge to go to the bathroom. She vaguely remembered the Prefect gesturing at a small door somewhere in their dormitory, informing them it was the bathroom; but when she had attempted to search for it, she only blindly stumbled at the foot of someone's bed; causing it's occupant to roll over and mutter something indistinct grumpily.

Finally deciding that she didn't want the whole dorm asking her why she was causing such a rumpus in the dead of their first night; she resolved to look outside the common rooms; recollecting a large oaken door that looked as though it might lead to the restrooms.

On her return, she realised, much to her consternation, that a password was required in order to enter the common room and that she hadn't the faintest idea what it was.

The pointless argument with the drowsy portrait followed; after which the young first year was left with no choice but to spend her first night at Hogwarts, outside her dorm.

'Great!' she huffed vehemently to herself. 'First night here…I'm out of my dorm…without my wand…no password…_just_ great.'

Mia hadn't the faintest idea where she was headed; she just stormed about in the dark, knowing she would probably have to spend the whole night in some empty classroom or something. She was too busy cursing herself and her imprudence to even think straight.

Veering sharply at the edge of another dimly lit corridor, Mia decided she could no longer ignore the circumstances and continue walking about an unknown castle aimlessly. She, after all, had to spend the night somewhere.

Her first thought was to go back to the Great Hall; the only place she knew in the enormous castle. She turned back, pleased by the fact that she had been able to make at least one rational decision that night, when the reality of the situation hit her. She neither knew where she was, nor did she have her wand with her; so there was absolutely no way she could move around without getting lost.

She felt a faint glimmer of hope that someone might want to go to the bathroom, just like her…

Finding no other means of venting the frustration that was building inside her; Mia sank into the cold stone wall; her hair strewn, her face buried in her hands in aggravation.

'Lost, are we?'

The merry voice of Albus Dumbledore cut straight through Mia's hopelessness and frustration; she looked up, expectantly, hastily straightening her auburn locks with the palms of her sweaty hands.

'Professor… Dumbledore?' she asked uncertainly, half relieved and half bewildered by the fact that the head of the school should be wandering about, so late at night. She hadn't even seen him arrive; possibly she had been too pre-occupied with her thoughts to take much notice of anything else.

'Hmm, you do recognize me, don't you?' he said pensively glancing at her; a smile playing on his lined face.

'Erm yes…' Mia replied, trying hard to think straight. Unfortunately, her brain had chosen that particular moment to go blank. 'I saw your picture on a Chocolate Card on the train...and at the Sorting…'

Her voice trailed off when she noticed that he seemed to be eyeing her curiously, with mild interest; as though he was summing her up.

'Is anything wrong, Professor?' she queried tentatively, pushing back further into the wall.

'Nothing at all, my dear.' he replied jovially, as though nothing could have made him happier than meeting her here in the dead of the night. Then, all of a sudden, he gazed at her sternly. 'Why, may I ask, are you out of bed, alone, so late at night?'

Mia flushed. 'I, sort of, wanted to go to the bathroom, so I left the common room…and when I came back the Fat Lady wouldn't let me in … because I didn't know the password … I was, kinda mad at myself for not thinking about that before I left… so I just stormed around, erm, cursing myself for being so _stupid_.' she finished, shaking her head, looking thoroughly ashamed of herself. 'First night here, and I'm outside my dorm, it's past midnight…oh, just great…' she muttered more to herself, than to the elderly wizard beside her.

'You're without your wand?' he asked her sombrely.

The pink flush crept in to Mia's neck as she replied, 'Yes.'

'Very unwise to wander around without your wand in such dangerous times…'

'I know…' Mia cursed herself, sinking deeper into the wall.

'Now, now…everyone makes mistakes.' Dumbledore asserted gently patting her shoulder. 'Perhaps, you'd like to go to your dormitory now?'

Mia nodded, smiling slightly, as she stood up, reaching for Dumbledore's hand. 'Thanks' she said quietly.

Dumbledore only nodded, smiling serenely as he did so; he seemed to be savouring every moment with her.

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'Professor' Mia asked hesitantly, as they made their way across the castle in the light of Dumbledore's ignited wand tip. 'Can I ask you something?'

'You just have.' He smiled brightly. 'You may ask me one more thing, however.'

'My friend Alexannah told me about a … certain _Dark wizard_ … she kept calling him you-know-who … do you know why? Doesn't he have a name?' Mia looked up at the Professor's face hopefully.

Dumbledore studied her fervent expression for a few seconds; his cerulean blue eyes bearing into her emerald green ones. Then, sighing deeply, he said, 'People are afraid to speak his name, Miss _Bridger_. They fear his name, as much as they fear him.'

He closed his eyes tightly, heaving a deep sigh as he did so. 'His name is Lord Voldemort.'

Mia glanced up at him thoughtfully. 'Can't anyone defeat him? Alexannah told me that he killed loads of people…tore apart so many families…'

She inhaled sharply and stopped walking abruptly, burying her face in her hands again. She felt someone's arm around her shoulders, looking up she saw the Professor bending and watching her; his arm around her shoulder.

'Sorry.' she mumbled, looking ashen faced. Then, biting her lower lip, she asked him, 'Alexannah told me, you could probably defeat him…can you?' She was rather hoping she hadn't offended him in any way.

'Lord Voldemort is not foolish enough to face me. He is rather…evasive.' Dumbledore replied in answer to her uncertainty.

The pair of them had arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was stilling snoring placidly, oblivious to the fact that two people were standing right in front of her. Dumbledore bent on his knees, his hands resting on Mia's shoulders as he spoke anxiously.

'Do not wander around the castle alone…times are Dark and dangerous…you never know…' his low voice trailed off into nothingness.

Getting up he slowly, addressed to snoozing portrait of the Fat Lady.

'Miss _Bridger_ wishes to enter the common room.' he said softly.

'Password, if you please, Professor' she said mordantly, opening one eye reluctantly and pouting at being disturbed so late at night. She turned to glower at Mia, who returned the glare.

'Rosa Indica' he supplied merrily. Mia was a bit stunned at his sudden change of mood, but she did not voice her thoughts.

The portrait hole swung open; Mia walked to it and turned to the Professor, at a total loss of what to say.

'Good night!' he said, surveying her tranquilly, from the top of his half moon spectacles; his blue eyes, bearing into her green ones, once more.

Mia nodded silently, as Dumbledore watched her clamber through the portrait hole, his heart heavy with grief.

**A/N:** How is the chapter? I know they mostly ask each other stupid questions, but it's not like they can just blurt out their feelings to each other. It's just their first meeting. If you've noticed, Mia is a bit hesitant to trust anyone, a bit too strict with herself, and she has a ferocious temper too (that'll come later on). Please review! And yeah, my mom's kinda psyched by the fact that exams are only 7 weeks away, so she's banned me from using the internet till my finals are over. So I'll keep writing and post about 5 chapters in March, second week. (Maybe I'll manage to sneak some chappies in between.) But sorry if I can't, I apologize in advance. Please read and review, though! I'll look forward to it!

**A/N:** Why is Albus' heart heavy with grief??? Any guesses? (mynix, this could be your answer.)

**PS:** Rosa Indica is the scientific name for rose; I couldn't find any other password. (Since I don't know Latin or Spanish or any other language! Here, where I live we only have Arabic and English…)


	9. Chapter 9 Fame on the First day

**Author's Note** – Hi! I've posted this chappie after rewriting it and adding a lot, because I really hated the earlier version, and anyways it was unedited. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Just taking this opportunity to thank T, Saint Potter, ADMM4EVA, Lottchen, bighrocks and lady clark of books, who have been kind enough to review. And for those who haven't, please do… it really means a lot to me!

It's just by chance that I've been able to post this up; I've got an entrance exam (since I'm leaving this sickening school of mine, hooray!) and my eight grade finals are coming up, and yeah, my brain's fried.

And please read this again, there's lot of new stuff!

**Disclaimers** – As if I haven't repeated it, enough times already.

**Chapter 10 – Fame on the First day**

'MIA, _wake up_!'

Mia Bridger rolled in her bed, pulling the scarlet quilt above her head as she buried her head under the fluffy pillow.

'MIA!'

'Umm…Go away…'

'Lessons start in three hours, Mia. WAKE UP!'

Alexannah shook her petulantly, as she tossed her straight auburn hair over her face and moaned childishly, 'Five more minutes…'

Cornelia giggled, as Alexannah snorted derisively.

'Honestly Mia, didn't you sleep the whole night?'

'No, I didn't!' Mia's voice came muffled from beneath the numerous covers she was wrapped up in. 'Please, let me sleep…'

'Oh, come on!' Cornelia argued reasonably. 'Today's our first day at Hogwarts … surely that's worth sacrificing some sleep.'

Giving up all hopes of getting any more sleep with two _more-more-than-persistent_ friends, Mia sat up awkwardly in her bed. Pushing the scarlet quilt away from her legs, she turned to stare drowsily at her friends, simultaneously rubbing her bloodshot eyes with her hands.

'Finally!' Alexannah sighed, rolling her cerulean blue eyes. 'I didn't know you were _such_ a sleepy head.'

'Am not!' Mia retorted miffed, stretching her arms and getting off the bed. 'I just didn't get any sleep last night, that's all.'

'What were you doing, having a midnight chat with the ghosts?' Alexannah snapped sardonically.

'Long story!' Mia called, grabbing her crimson bathrobe from her trunk. 'I'll tell you two later. Shouldn't we…erm…get going then?' she asked, rounding in on the other two.

'Look who's talking!' Alexannah said; nonetheless wrenching her own bath towel, as they followed Cornelia to the bathroom.

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Mia slicked her newly-straight black hair into a neat ponytail, as Alexannah smoothed her black school robes for the hundredth time that morning. She turned anxiously to Cornelia, who had been patiently waiting, while the pair of them did their hair.

'Do I look alright?' she queried fussily, squinting at her robes.

'I wouldn't worry if I were you, Alexannah' Cornelia called back vaguely from the doorway. 'You're a natural beauty.'

Cornelia's compliment seemed to have calmed Alexannah considerably; she turned to Mia who had only just finished with her hair.

'Why black?' she asked curiously, as the three of them traipsed down the stairs to the common room to meet Christopher, who was to take them down for breakfast in the Great Hall.

'Goes well with my eyes.' Mia replied lightly. 'My favourite hair colour, after auburn.'

Alexannah murmured something that distinctly sounded like 'lucky you'; however, their conversation was cut short when Cornelia pulled them up to meet her brother.

'Morning, sis!' Christopher hailed her cheerily, kissing his younger sister on the forehead.

Cornelia grinned gingerly at her older brother; then she turned to face Alexannah and Mia.

'Mia Bridger and Alexannah Mary-Ann Truman.' she said, introducing an anxious-looking Alexannah and grinning Mia to her sibling. 'My new friends.' she declared happily.

'Hullo!' he greeted them merrily. 'Glad you're all Sorted in Gryffindor…just waiting for Adrian, here…he's late…'

He turned and peered at the entrance to the boy's dormitory, from where a tall, black haired boy had just walked out.

'Oy! Adrian!' Christopher hailed the stocky teenager clad in black robes. 'Just taking my sis and her friends down for breakfast… see ya later!'

'No problem!' Adrian shouted back, waving his hand at Christopher.

'Right' he said turning back to look at the anticipating faces of the young first years in front of him. 'C'mere…'

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Mia was finding it rather difficult to keep both her eyes open; her long hot-water bath in the morning had in no way helped; if anything, it had only made her drowsier. Trying desperately to focus on the dish of scrambled eggs in front of her, she blinked rapidly, rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of her robes, attempting to be more awake.

'So' Alexannah asked her, trying to start a conversation, digest some buttered toast and sip at a flagon of pumpkin juice all at once. 'What do you reckon lessons will be like today?'

'I don't know' Mia said, half asleep. Somehow, she just wasn't worried about her lessons. 'Wonder if I could catch forty winks…' she yawned drowsily.

'I suppose they'll be alright.' Cornelia assured Alexannah, ignoring Mia as she carefully dabbed the edge of her mouth with a laced handkerchief. 'I'm _stuffed_.'

'So I'm I.' Alexannah replied instantly. 'I wonder if -'

Alexannah broke off suddenly, causing both Mia and Cornelia to look up, startled, from the breakfast table. She was staring at the raven haired witch; who had, for some reason abandoned the staff table, as had three other teachers, all of whom were now walking across the house tables, seemingly handing out something to each student.

'Timetables!' Cornelia hissed fervently. 'The head of the houses distribute them on the first day… Chris told me so.'

Sure enough, five minutes later, Professor McGonagall had handed each one of the girls, a timetable specifying the schedules for the week.

'Mmm…lets see,' Alexannah said, her pale blue eyes, surveying the schedule interestedly.

'Double Charms, followed by Transfiguration…then we have lunch hour, later, we have Defence Against Dark arts and … Double Herbology.' Cornelia declared significantly, squinting at the timetable.

Mia hastily gulped the last bit of scrambled egg in anticipation.

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'Here we are!' Charlie said, glancing at the oaken door frame that led to the Charms classroom. He had gladly obliged to point the girls to their first class, when they had asked him earlier at breakfast, that day.

'Thanks, Charlie!' Mia replied, flashing him a gratifying smile. 'We owe you one.'

'No problem.' Charlie replied, winking. 'You don't want to mess up on your first day.'

Waving his hand at the anxious girls, he pulled up his bag over his shoulder and left them, staring at the door.

'_Excuse me._'

Mia turned around, coming face to face with a short, bossy-looking girl with curly, long, black hair and black eyes, and a pair of round spectacles resting on the bridge of her rather long nose.

'You're blocking the way, did you know?' she said, pursing her lips, contemptuously.

This _was_ true; the three of them had been standing right in front of the doorway, obstructing the entrance to the Charms classroom.

'We're really sorry.' Mia said, pulling a dumbstruck Alexannah and Cornelia with her into the classroom. 'We didn't mean to.'

The girl eyed her, sniffing disdainfully, before she walked into the classroom with them. Choosing a seat right in front, she sat down hurriedly, pulling out a piece of parchment, an inkwell and a long feathery quill from her school bag.

'Git!' Alexannah muttered reprovingly as she sat down beside Mia. '"You're blocking the way did you know?"' she mimicked in an uncannily high voice, muck like the bespectacled girl.

Cornelia chortled as Alexannah made a face at the girl's turned back.

'Oh! Shut up, both of you.' Mia reproved, though she was smiling.

Rolling her eyes, Alexannah leaned back comfortably on her chair.

Five minutes after they had all been seated, a very small old man came tottering into the classroom. He was so tiny, he had to stand on a pile of books to be seen.

'Good Morning!' he squeaked to the class in general, beaming at all of them. 'I am Professor Flitwick, your Charms teacher.'

'Good Morning, Professor Flitwick.' the class chanted dully.

'Yes, yes' he squeaked brightly, pulling out a fat dusty book from amidst the tottering pile of parchment and books on his table. Opening it, he scrutinized the writing before he called out, 'Alves, Peggoty'; his tiny eyes scanning the class for the said girl.

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After a very boring ten minutes or so, when Professor Flitwick had finally finished with the rather long register, he laid the fat book down on his over crowded, messy table and faced the fervent class.

'Today' he said squeakily. 'We shall start with a basic, simple charm.'

He beamed at the class as he continued, 'The Levitation Charm is a very important, though a very basic skill. It is very handy and can come in use, even in the toughest of times.'

Surveying the class mildly, he made sure everyone had been listening before he persisted.

'Can anyone tell me the use of the Levitation Charm?' he asked, squeakily.

A short hand flew into the air; it transpired to be the bossy-looking girl; Mia had met earlier that day. Flitwick gazed at her for a few polite minutes before he said happily, 'Yes, Miss Phoenix.'

The girl, nodded pretentiously and began. 'The Levitation Charm' she said, in the same, high-pitched, bossy voice that she had used to interrupt Mia and her friends, not so long ago. '-is one of the most basic charms devised by wizard-kind. It causes the object, on which it is cast, to rise and hover in mid air.'

'Very good, Miss Phoenix. Five points to Ravenclaw.' The girl sat down promptly, a supercilious smile playing on her smug face. Alexannah eyed her distastefully.

'Is it just me, or did that girl just recite the definition, word by word from our Charms text book?' Alexannah asked sordidly.

Before Cornelia or Mia could make reply, Professor Flitwick had asked them all to take out their wands.

'Now, the wand movement for the Charm – swish and flick.' He brandished his wand in mid-air, demonstrating what he had just said. 'Come on, nicely now…'

The trio imitated the action immediately; Mia found it rather easy while Alexannah seemed to be struggling.

'Stupid!' she groaned, jabbing her wand infuriately in mid air; as though she was trying to stab somebody invisible. 'I-just-can't-get-the hang-of-this!'

'Very well' Flitwick announced after fifteen minutes of near-useless swishing and flicking. 'We shall move on with the incantation. Put you wands down and repeat - Wingardium Leviosa.'

'Wingardium Leviosa.' The incantation rang through the class as the tiny professor walked amidst them.

'Make the "gar" nice and long…Wingardium Leviosa.' he reproved.

The class promptly followed his instructions.

'Now divide into group of threes and try to levitate the feather on your tables.' he said holding up a small green feather from a terrified-looking Ravenclaw's table. 'Swish and flick - Wingardium Leviosa.'

'Can I have a go?' Alexannah asked the other two, eagerly as they huddled together in front of a rather long eagle feather.

'Sure.' came the reply.

Alexannah screwed up her face in concentration; taking a deep breath she flicked her wand.

'Wingardium Leviosa.'

The result, Mia had to admit, was a bit disheartening; the feather gave a feeble twitch and fell back on the wooden table.

'It was worth a try.' she said dejectedly, making way for Mia. 'Your turn.'

Mia smiled back at her friend's fallen face. 'You'll get the hang of it, soon.' she said bracingly.

Turning to the feather, she called out loudly and clearly, '_Wingardium Leviosa'_.

The feather rose smoothly into mid air, stopped at a height of about five feet and hovered above the ground.

'You did it!' Cornelia shrieked pointing frantically at the air-borne feather, completely oblivious to the fact that the whole class was staring at her. 'You did it in _your first attempt_!'

Alexannah was merely standing with her jaw hanging loosely; the rest of the class, had obviously, on hearing Cornelia's loud shriek, turned to the source of the commotion, their reaction, very much similar to Alexannah's.

'Excellent, Miss Bridger.' the professor squeaked, shooting a proud smile at Mia. 'Well done, indeed. Ten points to Gryffindor.'

Out of the corner of her eye, Mia noticed the pained look on the black haired girl's face.

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'Freaky!' Alexannah exclaimed affectedly as the trio rounded the long corridor, only to be greeted by another blank wall. 'ARRGH! How on earth are we going to reach our classes on time, what with blank walls and blood-status enquiring geeks and peeving ghosts!'

She threw up her hands in exasperation.

'Transfiguration is taught by that new teacher, Professor McGonagall, isn't it?' Mia asked the others, as they turned back to start afresh.

'Yeah!' Cornelia replied zealously. 'And she looked mighty strict.'

'Great!' Alexannah cried, throwing her head back. 'Just great! We'll end up in detention on our first day…'

'You shouldn't judge people by their look, you know.' Mia admonished. 'For all you might know, she might be a great teacher.'

'Even if she is' Cornelia broke in quietly. '- I doubt she'll be happy proviso we're late.'

'And how exactly are we going to explain that to her?' Alexannah snapped back, irately. ' "Oh, Professor McGonagall … We're really sorry we're late. See, we were stupid enough to get held up by Rivers Phoenix, a Ravenclaw geek who decided that Mia's blood-status was _really_ important, and by the time she let go of us, everyone else had already gone. And so we decided to try and find our way on our own and ran into some _freaky_ ghost who decided it was fun to throw inkwells at lost first years and then - '

'Save your breath.' Mia interrupted quietly. 'There's the door.'

Alexannah shut up instantaneously, turning pale, while Cornelia was staring at the door as though it might eat her.

Realising that it was unlikely that her friends were ever going to move, Mia wrenched them by the sleeves of their robes, pulling them up to the door.

'No!' Alexannah squeaked frantically, finally having found her voice after the initial paralysis of vocal chords.

'We can't stay outside!' Mia persisted. 'Come on!' she cried, grabbing hold of Cornelia's sleeve as she began to back away.

Mia slowly pushed the door to reveal a large, airy classroom with some rather complicated- looking diagrams pasted neatly on the walls and small animals and birds in cages at the back. In fact, Mia didn't even realise there were people in the class, until the Transfiguration teacher's voice cut sharply through her.

'Miss _Bridger_?'

Mia snapped out of her contemplation, only to realize that the whole class was staring at her; including (he stomach gave an unpleasant jolt) a group of rather nasty looking Slytherins. Alexannah and Cornelia had emerged timidly from behind her; as though, they were using her as a shield to protect themselves from the scorching sneers that the some of the Slytherins were sending their way.

'Will you please explain yourselves, all three of you?' Professor McGonagall asked them, sternly.

'We got lost.' Mia said shortly, apprehending that Alexannah and Cornelia would not speak. She hadn't the faintest inclination to explain what had actually happened in front of twenty eagerly listening classmates, much worse, the Slytherins.

The teacher sighed, apparently exasperated. She didn't however ask them how they got lost (for which Mia was thankful), but instead asked them to sit down; though, not before informing them that lateness would not be tolerated in her class again.

'Meet me after class!' she said curtly, turning her back on them.

Mia nodded shamefacedly as she sat next to Cornelia, pulling out her quill and parchment to take down the notes that had been written on the blackboard.

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Evidently, the three of them had missed much of what Professor McGonagall had told the class earlier on; however they did manage not to miss the main part of their lesson; where they were supposed to be turning a match into a needle. Having copied down the supposedly 'complicated' notes, Mia, Cornelia and Alexannah turned to face Professor McGonagall.

Mia was, like last night, letting her attention linger around the room. She was rather bored by what the Professor was telling the class because somehow, deep down inside, _she felt as though she had heard every word of what McGonagall was saying, somewhere before…_

'Sounds mighty complicated, huh?' Cornelia said, picking up the match and examining it closely.

'Yeah, I suppose...' Mia replied vaguely.

'Wanna have a go?' Alexannah asked, oddly furtive; pushing her towards the match.

'Sure!' Mia replied unenthusiastically; lazily flicking her wand at the match stick.

'AAAHHH!'

The match had turned silvery and pointy with a perfect hole on top. Alexannah picked it up and opened her mouth to speak. Apparently, she was lost for words because all she could manage was 'Holy Merlin!'.

'You … you did it!' Cornelia faltered, completely blown. 'Omigosh! How do you…You're so totally amazing.'

'So what?' Mia said, feeling herself go red. She hadn't meant to show off or anything.

_She knew how to do it, so, big deal…_

Cornelia, however, wasn't satisfied by this.

'Professor!,' she called out in a loud, carrying voice, flourishing the needle in mid air for her teacher to see. 'Mia's done it! She did it!'

The first strange thing that Mia _should have_ noticed was that Professor McGonagall didn't seem to be surprised at all; but then Mia had been to busy returning the ugly glares the Slytherins had been giving her because she had won a ten-point bonus for Gryffindor, to pay attention to anything else.

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'That was rather impressive, huh?' Alexannah asked, as the trio jammed their inkwells, quills and parchments into their already stuffed backpacks.

'Too bad we missed the first half.' Cornelia muttered longingly. 'Cindy Miller told me, McGonagall had transfigured the table into a pig at the beginning of the lesson, you know, to give us a fair idea of what transfiguration is. Really, a pity. I must say, McGonagall is a super teacher, what say Mia?'

'Didn't I say that before we even got here?' Mia returned chidingly at them.

'Yeah, well…' Alexannah admitted sheepishly. 'I would really like to see her transfigure the table into a pig. I mean, my mom's a Healer, so she's more into Potions and stuff…'

'I could show if you want to see it so badly.' Mia said unconscientiously.

'_Huh?_' Alexannah snapped out of her reverie. 'Of course you couldn't. That's really advanced; it's seventh year stuff. I know you're brilliant and all, Mia, and no offence, but that's really complex.' she finished, slightly apologetic.

'But I _can_ do it!' Mia insisted.

'Really?' Cornelia piped up excitedly. 'Can you show us now?'

Glancing at her eager face, Mia heaved a sigh. 'I can show you any old time.' she said. 'I think we really should get to lunch for now– '

'_Well, well, well…_'

Mia sighed dolefully. As if wasn't enough that she had been cornered by Rivers Phoenix, the nerdy Ravenclaw, after Charms, to go through a full-scale questioning of her blood status; now she had to be cornered by none other than Dolores Jane Umbridge.

She glanced wistfully at the door, half-hoping Professor McGonagall would appear through it and get rid of Umbridge for her. But she knew, that it was more likely not; McGonagall had been dragged out by a certain Professor Sprout to see the Headmaster, five minutes prior to the lesson's end.

Consequently, Alexannah, Cornelia and Mia had narrowly escaped seeing her after class; she had expressly given them permission to go down to lunch, before she had left.

'Move over, Dolores' Alexannah snapped at her.

'Tut, tut' Dolores said, in the same annoyingly sweet manner that made Mia's blood boil. 'Little Miss Bridger needs two bodyguards to speak for her…'

'-whereas you have enough bulk than all three of us put together.' Cornelia intervened swiftly.

'Nobody asked your opinion, Mud-'

'_Watch your mouth_' Mia retorted through gritted teeth, in a dangerously, low voice.

Dolores ignored her; instead she turned to address Alexannah who was, likewise looking as though she would have liked to hit Umbridge.

'I couldn't help overhearing-' she began, simpering.

'Bet you could.' Cornelia mumbled.

Dolores didn't reply; partly because Alexannah looked as though she might crack any minute, and partly because Mia was still glowering at her.

'-but you seemed to have missed the start of the lesson; and because Mia here, so kindly agreed to demonstrate what Professor McGonagall had shown us earlier, I thought I would very much like to see it again as well.' she concluded in, what all three of them considered a horribly honeyed voice.

'Well-' Mia retorted irritably. '- the fact remains that I do not exist solely for the purpose of your entertainment, Dolores.'

'Ah!' Dolores said triumphantly, pointing a stubby finger at Mia's flat chest. 'But perhaps, you don't know…' she said, leering.

Mia shot Dolores a very nasty glare; before turning to Alexannah and Cornelia, both of whom looked like they would very much like to see Mia transfigure the table into a pig.

'Fine!' she huffed, exasperated at their annoying behavior.

Plunging her hand into her robes, she withdrew her wand and concentrated on the small oaken desk in front of her. She took a deep breath, and then flicked her wand lazily.

'ARRGH!'

The desk had, indisputably, turned into a (rather handsome) pig; what was more (Mia thought, grinning to herself) was that the pig seemed to have taken an inexplicable fancy to Dolores and was now sniffing, politely interested at the hem of her black robes.

'GET THE BEAST OFF ME!!!' she shrieked hysterically, not daring to move.

Mia would have very much liked to leave the pig with Dolores all day and watch her struggle; she knew that it was unlikely the creature would do much harm, anyways.

However, Professor McGonagall, she thought, might not take too kindly to seeing a hysterical first-year and a grunting pig in her classroom, especially after she had just returned from an eleven year teaching break.

Unfortunately for Mia; just as she had resolved to untransfigure the table, the door slid open and a beautiful, young witch clad in deep magenta entered the room. She had silvery blonde hair and was rather tall; unlike Professor Sprout who was short and dumpy.

'What-' she faltered, her gaze lingering over Mia, Cornelia, Alexannah and finally, the shrieking Dolores and the pig. 'Never-I-all my time-Hogwarts-Merlin' name-'

Apparently, the witch was so shocked; she could barely speak, for all that she could manage ere disjointed words.

'Never-imagined-first years-how did you-Explain yourselves!' she said finally having found her voice.

'Please, Professor-' Alexannah began; but Mia cut her off.

'I transfigured the table into a pig, Professor' Mia said firmly. 'Cornelia, Alexannah and I missed the beginning of the lesson; where Professor McGonagall transfigured the table and Alexannah and Cornelia wanted to see; so told them I'd…show them later or something-'

'But Professor' Cornelia squeaked, from somewhere near Mia's elbow. 'Dolores insisted she do it-'

The witch had raised her hand to silence her; she had resumed sputtering again.

'Wait till-Minerva-first years-absolute-HOLY MERLIN!' she gasped, pulling out her own wand and flicking it the pig near Umbridge, who was by now moaning timidly, cowering against the wall. It instantly turned into a seemingly harmless desk.

'You transfigured it yourself?' she asked disbelievingly, staring at Mia in part shock and scepticism.

Mia nodded uncomfortably as the witch's jaw drooped; she was evidently too stunned to speak.

'To lunch!' she faltered alarmingly . 'All four of you!'

Mia didn't dare disobey; flinging her backpack over her shoulder, she walked out of the Transfiguration classroom.

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The news that a first year had managed to transfigure a table into a pig; that too, on her first day at Hogwarts, had reached the Great Hall, even before Mia and the others had set foot into it.

Heaving her bag down, she'd barely sat down at the Gryffindor table when everyone around her started talking all at once.

'Did you really do it?' Cindy Miller, a fellow first year asked, craning her neck to get a better look at Mia.

'Yeah-' Mia began, thoroughly aggravated. What was the point in asking, if you already knew the answer?

'Did you study transfiguration at home?' First-year Gryffindor, Peterson Wood queried curiously.

'Huh?' Mia mumbled dumbly, totally confused.

'Who are you're parents?' A tall girl with black pigtails called out.

'I-' she hadn't actually thought of what to say; any topic that involved her past seemed to make her insides boil with frustration, anger and exasperation all at once. The Gryffindors however didn't seem to realise this; they continued raining her with questions, without even waiting for the answers.

'Are you a pure blood?' Adrian wondered aloud.

'Please-' Mia cried, but nobody heard her over the clamour.

'Bet you're parents are really good!' A stout boy with dreadlocks, leaned back from the Ravenclaw table to get a good look at her.

'I really –'

'Bet they're famous!' someone else said avidly.

'No-' Mia was starting to get desperate; but no one was listening to her.

'When did they start teaching you?'

'Listen-'

'How long have they been teaching you?'

'JUST LISTEN TO ME!'

Mia's self-restraint had cracked; she had shouted so loudly; everyone in the Great Hall had turned to stare at her, the staff included, but she didn't care, _she just didn't care_; she had had enough for one day.

'I DON'T KNOW WHO MY PARENTS ARE, SO JUST DROP IT, OKAY?' she yelled furiously, feeling hot tears burn in her eyes.

Glaring at their shocked faces, she forcefully grabbed her school bag and stormed out of the Great Hall into the glorious sunshine outside.

**A/N:** How is the chappie? I really like it now…I know it's quite long but I don't remember ever being angry with an author for posting a longer chapter than intended, so there you are!

By the way, lady clark of books, any guesses as to what happens next ??? (I look forward to your answers; they never fail to amuse me ;)

There are some requests I'd like to make to the reviewers; please try not to put up anonymous reviews; I really like to reply to your questions, but I can't if you don't sign it.

(If you don't have an account, then it's ok) I also like to find out more about my readers and for all those who have reviewed, I've already read their profile pages.

Second, see I need a little help. I'm a newbie here, and I want to know the meanings of the following words:

Beta

XOXO

TBC

au's (specially this one)

I really have no idea (and I've come across these loads of times) what they mean so I'll be really grateful if you can help me.

Third, I thought it'd be interesting if you knew how Mia's story actually came around; but only if you want to hear about it (I don't wanna bore you); so if you do, please review and let me know. I'll put up short bits at the end of every chapter.

Fourth, anyone looking for a good read; I'd recommend the following stories-

**This is Wrapping Up Quite** Nicely (Romantic comedy, MMAD, totally hilarious)

**Am I going MMAD?** (Some good mystery, drama and stuff, MMAD, really a good read,)

**The Sound of Silence** (Minerva's life story; MMAD, not paired, perfect)

**It is our choices** (Snape survives after DH; so what happens if Harry and he meet after 19 years?, SSHP, not paired, must-read)

Well, that's all folks! See ya!

**Up next** – Mia makes a new friend.

- From a very exhausted little Lee, whose brain is fried by studying all day!


	10. Chapter 10 The beetleeyed giant

**Author's Note:** Hiya! I've managed to sneak up one more chappie; thanks to my friends, Hanna and Naz. And once more thanks for the lovely reviews!

**Disclaimers** – If you recognize it, I don't own it.

**Chapter 10 – The beetle eyed giant **

Mia Bridger sat by the serene blue waters of the lake; her head in her hands as tears trailed gradually down her pale face.

A pleasant breeze blew across the tranquil blue; causing the still waters to lap against the bank slowly; as it reflected the azure hue of the sky.

One question running endlessly through her head…

_Why? _

_Why, in Merlin's name, had she incensed so quickly after what had happened in the Great hall?_

_It was, after all, natural that they should ask…_

She glared at the lake through her tear-filled eyes; seeing nothing but a vast, blurry blue.

_Why had the mere thought of her parents infuriated her so badly?_

_Who were her parents, anyways?_

_Did they have to ask …_

She buried her head deeper into her hands, as a flurry of sobs escaped her.

_Why…_

_Why didn't she know?_

_Why didn't they tell her…_

Mia forced herself to look up; she _never_ cried. She hated feeling feeble, she hated feeling weak…it just didn't work with her.

Nonetheless, as she strained her memory back to lunch at the Great Hall, envisioning their avid, eager faces, she only felt like crying more…

"_Who are your parents?_

_Are you a pure blood? _

_Bet you're parents are really good!_

_Bet they're famous…"_

'So what if her parents were famous,' she thought bitterly, brushing off a fly-away strand of raven black that had fallen onto her tear-stained face. 'She didn't know, did she?'

The thought only made her more miserable.

_They didn't want her…_

_They didn't care…_

Tears spilling down her eyes, she stared at the tranquil lake; feeling so betrayed, so lost…

If only she knew the truth.

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Mia wrapped her arms tightly around her self as the icy gust of wind blew across the lake, stinging her bare face callously. She hadn't the slightest proclivity to go back to the Great Hall; every time the thought penetrated her mind she could only envisage their shocked faces…

There was no way, she was going back.

'What are yeh doin' out here?'

Formerly preoccupied with grief and misery, Mia had barely noticed anyone arrive. Craning her neck to the source of the voice; she saw a tall giant of a man, his face mostly obstructed by a large quantity of very shaggy hair, though Mia could make out his beetle-shaped black eyes amidst the scraggly curls.

'It's rude teh stare, yeh know.' he remarked, perceiving that the young first year had not yet taken her eyes off him.

'Sorry' she apologized, feeling snubbed.

'Never mind.' he said gruffly. 'What are yeh doin' here?' Its cold, yeh know. Yeh should be gettin' back.'

'No' she replied shortly, turning back to the lake. 'I'm fine.'

''Course, yer not.' he returned baldly. 'Yer ruddy shiverin'.'

'I'm fine.' she repeated firmly; knowing perfectly well he wasn't listening to her.

'When I say yer not; yer not.' he said resolutely, wrenching her by her shoulders and lifting her up. 'Now get away from there.'

Mia allowed the man to haul her away from the chilly, lake side; apprehending that he wouldn't take no for an answer. After all, she thought to herself, as he dragged her by the shoulder across the lawn, any place was better than the Great Hall.

'Where are you taking me?' she asked curiously, after a while.

'To me hut' he returned unhelpfully. 'Yeh look like yeh could use a cuppa.'

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'So what were you doin' outside?'

Mia was sitting inside Hagrid's hut; sipping idly at a cup of hot chocolate he had offered her, along with a plate of fresh Ginger Newts to munch on, in between. Introductions had been made earlier on; the giant man turned out to be the 'Hagrid' who had lead them across the lake, just the previous day.

'Rubeus Hagrid' he had introduced himself gruffly when she had asked. 'Keeper of the Grounds and the Keys and Gamekeeper of Hogwarts. But yeh can call me Hagrid…everyone does, anyways.'

Mia had done likewise; putting in only her name and house affiliation as she took Hagrid's enormous hand in her own.

Presently however, Hagrid's question brought her back to the real reason why she was there in the first place; the eager and later, shocked faces of her fellow Gryffindors swam before her eyes as she gazed at the blazing fire burning in Hagrid's hut; not really seeing anything at all. Her eyes were burning again.

'What's the matter?' Hagrid asked, peering at her. He must have noticed that the cup had suddenly left her mouth.

'Nothing.' Mia replied in a choked voice.

'Wish yeh'd stop sayin' that' he said wearily, putting his own bucket-sized mug down. 'Somethin' botherin' yeh, that's crystal clear.'

Mia sniffed in reply.

'I don't want to talk about it.' she said shortly.

''Course you wanna talk' Hagrid told her patiently. 'No one's usually so glum on their first day, yeh know, yeh'll be the first one. 'Course some of 'em were missin' their families, all right…'

'I don't have a family.' Mia said shakily.

'…and other were catcalled by the Slytherins n' all but…' he stopped suddenly, looking at Mia as though he had only just registered what she had said.

'_What?_' he asked her, evasively.

'_I don't have a family_.' she mumbled; her head in her hands again.

'I'm sorry…' he said, sounding thoroughly repentant. 'What … er … happened?' he asked reticently, hoping he hadn't offended her; she looked morose enough, as it was.

'I … don't know.' she said without looking him in the eye.

'It's okay, if yeh don't wanna tell me' he told her gently. 'See, me dad died in me third year and …' his voice trailed off into nothingness.

'No' she said quietly. 'I really don't know.'

'Yeh mean, they died before yeh were born?' he asked her quizzically.

'No' she said tearfully. I d…don't remember…anything…I just cant…'

'Whadda ya mean?

Mia chose not to reply to this; instead she shut her eyes tightly, biting her lips as she did so.

_Diagon Alley…_

_What had happened there…_

She strained her memory back to the time before she had boarded the Hogwarts Express, Diagon Alley…

_The bustling streets, witches and wizards huddled together everywhere…_

_Posters, shops, money bags…_

_Wands, books, ingredients…_

_Eyelops Owl Emporium, Ollivander's, Gringotts…_

_Who had she gone with?_

She tried to envisage the times before Diagon alley…

…_there seemed to be no memory left before that._

Mia buried her head deeper into her hands, not caring what Hagrid would think, not caring what anyone would think…she just cried.

It seemed a long time before she noticed Hagrid had his gigantic arm wrapped around her skinny shoulders; all this while she had been sobbing into his shaggy coat.

'Sorry' she mumbled penitently, drying her eyes with her sleeves as Hagrid patted her kindly.

'It's nothin' to be sorry about' he replied, attempting to dry her eyes for her, in means of a comforting gesture. 'Every one wants to know where they belong.'

Mia nodded mutely, her mind still on her parents.

_They hadn't wanted her or else they…_

_Or else they, what? _

'Hagrid' she asked shakily, turning to face him. 'Why can't I remember anything?'

'Well' he said contemplatively, screwing his face thoughtfully. 'Probably effects of a Memory Charm.'

Mia felt bitterness and aggravation well up inside her.

_They hadn't wanted her…ever…they didn't care…_

_Why else would they use a Memory Charm on her?_

_Their daughter…_

_Their own daughter…_

There was nothing else to it.

'Look' Hagrid said, observing her face contort with acrimony. 'I know what yer thinkin', that yer parents didn't want you…'

'So?' she said, a bit more aggressively than she had intended to.

'They'll have their reasons' he explained patiently. 'They're yer parents…they know what's best fer ya.'

'Do you know who they are, then?' she queried suddenly; her face shining with one last hope. 'Do I look like … anyone you've known?' she asked fervently.

Hagrid scrutinized her features for a few agonizing minutes before he declared, 'Well, yeh certainly do look like Minerva McGonagall.'

'Huh?'

Mia frowned slightly. If there was anything she had expected, it had not been this.

'You think I'm her daughter, then?' she asked, her brow still knitted.

'Well' he admitted ruefully. 'She's not really married as far as I know, so yeh can't put it that way.'

Mia sighed wryly. Her one last hope had just been snatched away.

'But' he continued loudly in an effort to distract her from her aggrieving thoughts. 'Yeh still resemble her a lot. Black hair, green eyes…'

'Oh' Mia gasped; abruptly apprehending why Hagrid thought her to resemble her Transfiguration teacher. 'No, wait, you've got it all wrong…'

She shut her eyes once more; on opening them, she had resumed her original appearance.

'Ruddy!' he exclaimed violently. 'Yer a Metamorphmagus!'

'Yeah' Mia returned resignedly. 'I know.'

'Oh…'

'Hmm.'

'Look' he said finally. 'Like I said before, yer parents probably knew what's best fer ya and then, they did it…doesn't mean yeh go aroun' hatin' them fer it. It probably hurts them as much as it hurts yeh, but some times yeh just gotta do what you gotta do. Yeh'll find out soon enough, just keep yer head. Tell yeh what, I'll see if I can ask Dumbledore if he knows anthin' about them, hows that sound?' he asked expectantly, in a last endeavour to cheer her up.

'Thank you so much!' she cried ecstatically, and Hagrid suddenly felt her arms grasp around his middle.

'It's nothin'' he replied gruffly, pleased to see that she was finally smiling. 'Just remember what I told yeh, it'll be fine.'

As she trudged across the vast grounds to the entrance, where both Cornelia and Alexannah had gathered, gesticulating frantically at one of the green houses, Mia thought, that perhaps, she had a lot to be thankful for.

**A/N:** What do you think? Is it good? I didn't try to make it descriptive because I was trying to focus on her feelings. This chapter is certainly not one of my favourites; but then, I didn't want to skip it as I wanted some scene to show what Mia' feels about her parents and stuff. May be it's too ironical, maybe not.

I don't think Hagrid sounds Hagrid enough, but I did my best. And sorry if Mia is a bit … sad … or whatever… that's the way she is. I mean, she's not easily upset and stuff, but come on, you've touched a nerve there.

Don't forget to review, please.

And yeah, the next chappie isn't even written, though the idea is in my head, so I doubt it will be up soon. I think it won't be up until March.

**Up next** – See what the Hogwarts staff is saying about Mia's brilliance; later, Minerva has a little chat with our beloved Headmaster on her return to Hogwarts and eleven years of absence.

See you then! And please, please, please don't forget to review!!! (Please, pray I pass the exams or I'll be skewered by my mom ;)


	11. Chapter 11 Staffroom Gossips

**Author's Note** – Man … I feel like the worst writer in the world!! I am so sorry for the super long time it's taken to update, but I've had my reasons. First of all, exams are finally over. January's been pretty hectic, thanks to the recent much-mourned demise of a friend's father, and then owing to a virus may dad deleted about 15 pages of unedited fanfic and subsequently, 'course exam preparation. March was a full holiday, but since we were shifting to another city, I couldn't write at all. Then, results were out, (I got a whopping 99, and I'm not kidding) and now schools finally begun. I must say ninth grade is very hectic, but I'll try my best to get the story updated soon. Oh yeah, and I'm working on about four more fan fics in my head so that's a bit distracting too. Ah well, thanks for all the fabulous reviews; they really make my day!

I've just put up another fanfic – **Solitary Grievances** which is also Harry Potter, MMAD (duh!); so I'll be glad if you can take the time to read that as well. It's my first one shot … hope you like it!

**PS** - I had already written this chapter once; thanks to the accursed virus I had to rewrite it.

**Disclaimer** – Every character in this chappie with the possible exception of Jeremy Carter and Helio Chandler belongs to Rowling.

**Chapter 11 – Staffroom Gossips **

Minerva McGonagall glared at the untidy piece of parchment in front of her. The oddly twisted scribbles were so muddled up and cramped on the tiny parchment; it only further fuelled her desire to abandon reading it and relax on her first day at Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, the atmosphere in the staffroom permitted no such relaxation. Minerva rolled her eyes inwardly; it was only the first day of the term, and yet the staff had already found another poor soul to gossip about.

Her sympathies with that person.

Yet, as she attempted another futile endeavour to discern the writing on the piece of parchment in front of her, Minerva found that she was better off listening to the staff gossip, anyways.

'-impossible!' Minerva caught the uncharacteristically shocked look on Leto's face as she looked up from the table. Something truly great must have happened, Minerva thought, smiling to herself. Leto was rarely so stunned.

'And yet, you yourself claim it to be true,' the voice of Filius Flitwick squeaked back at her, looking a bit flustered.

'-but she said she did it and it didn't look like she was lying!' Leto pointed out, frowning slightly at him.

'Then, it is obviously truethat she did do it!' The jovial voice of Horace Slughorn cut in unabashedly through their conversation. 'Should invite her to the Slug Club …'

Aha, Minerva thought, smirking as she mock-read the scribbles before her and eavesdropped on her colleagues' conversation simultaneously. Some new prodigy had turned up at Hogwarts. Not unusual, yet quite rare. Prodigies were always interesting.

'Too bad she blew up…' Helio Chandler, the new DADA teacher with scraggly brown hair and a heavily scarred face, piped up vaguely from somewhere.

'Oh yeah?' Leto admonished defensively, wheeling around to face him. ' "Blew up" is it?' Her thin fingers sketched the quotations marks in mid-air. 'Well, so would you, if people rained you with questions on your first day at school,' she added snappishly.

Helio as usual, did not bother to respond to her admonition. Leto turned back to Filius and Horace, satisfied.

'It's true, then?' Jeremy Carter, the soft spoken Arithmancer asked of her. 'I mean what she said at lunch hour about not knowing who her real parents were?'

Minerva felt a dire stab of guilt and tried to gulp down hastily.

'Yes,' Pomona Sprout, the resident Herbologist asserted, nodding her head sadly, her light brown pitiful. 'She had Herbology after lunch hour, and well, she did look a bit … upset.' she said, finally, having struggled to find the right word for some time. 'I won't deny she's a genius though.' she vouched firmly.

Minerva's doubts about the girl's identity were fast waning.

'And a genius she is!' Horace boomed cheerfully. 'Couldn't see her myself, see, she didn't have Potions today.' he explained to the crowd in general.

'Good thing!' someone mumbled incoherently. Horace looked most offended as Leto shot him a satirical glance.

'Well, bad luck about her parents though,' he sputtered loudly, noisily shuffling the numerous papers and books on his desk in an hurried attempt to cover up his embarrassment. 'I'd wager ten Galleons she's a pure blood.'

'Ten Galleons isn't much, Horace,' Leto retorted at his speculation. 'And hasn't your tendency to underestimate Muggle-borns been proven wrong enough already?' She glared fiercely at a very snubbed Horace. It was common knowledge that Leto, being a Muggle-born herself, could not stand Muggle-borns being underestimated.

'But, Leto' Horace continued futilely. 'It's highly advanced magic-'

'A fact that I am fully aware of, thank-you very much, _Professor_ Slughorn,' Leto said irately, in a voice that suggested she would very much like him to shut up.

Horace however did no such thing. '-and it is not something one could learn out of a book.' He waved his stubby hands in mid-air as he conjectured his theory. 'Think about it. Her parents, great wizards, must have already taught her a lot before she came here. They would have probably Obliviated her memory, poor dear, before she arrived here; come to think of it … it's quite obvious really.'

Minerva instantaneously had no more doubts about who the girl was.

_No…_

_She couldn't have found out already…_

'That, Horace' Leto berated, eyes widened in revulsion with dripping disgust, cutting right into Minerva's thoughts. '-is one of the most far fetched schemes I've ever heard. Honestly, Horace, what sort of a parent would want to erase their own daughter's memory?' she glowered furiously at him.

'It's obviously…for her own safety…against…the Dark Lord…' Horace managed to stammer back.

'Well, I'd rather have my daughter beside me, knowing who I am; rather than Obliviating her memory "_for her own safety".'_ Leto returned loftily.

'Oh stop!' Pomona Sprout cried out ultimately, cross and annoyed to boot by their useless bickering. 'Why are you arguing about her blood status? Does it make a difference? I thought we were speculating how she couldn't remember who her parents were in the first place. And besides, where's the proof that her parents are pure bloods in the first place?'

'Oh, but it's rather obvious, Pomona-' Horace shot up immediately, grabbing the chance to prove his conjecture.

'Says who?' Leto reprimanded hotly, raising her eyebrows authoritatively.

'FOR MERLIN'S SAKE! GIVE IT A REST, YOU TWO!' Pomona bellowed at them, much to the astonishment of the staff, who knew Pomona to be characteristically gentle and peaceful. 'You're quarrelling like two little kids fighting over who get the bigger bag of candy!'

Leto and Horace glowered at each other sourly before turning away, slightly shamefaced.

'I think-' she huffed with the same atypical severity, ' that since you two are bent upon continuing this … little trivial discussion of yours, (here she waved her hand at Leto and Horace; just in case anyone didn't understand who "you two" referred to) and since Transfiguration is Minerva's area of expertise, that she ought to decide … Minerva?'

Minerva looked up innocently from the muddled-up writing on the parchment, that is, as innocently as possible with her mind over-burdened with guilt.

'Mmm-hmm?'

'You weren't listening?' Leto asked, who had craned her neck from the other end of the staffroom across Horace's broad shoulders to stare at Minerva, looking somewhat crestfallen.

Minerva just shook her head numbly.

'And I thought you could hear these two squabbling till the moon!' Pomona remarked cynically, rolling her eyes as she put down the bundle of third year holiday assignments she had been grading.

Minerva suddenly realised how foolish it must look for her to be so tongue-tied.

'Is anyone going to have the courtesy to tell me?' she inquired of the staff, with an abrupt return to her usual self, though deep down inside, she wasn't even sure if she wanted to hear this or not.

'Surely, you would have heard the rumour, Minerva…' Jeremy Carter pointed out, looking surprised.

'Nah!' Filius contradicted squeakily. 'She was with Dumbledore at lunch hour, remember?'

'Oh well, I guess someone ought to tell her,' Leto obliged instantly before Horace could. 'Minerva, there's a new girl at Hogwarts-'

'First year?' Minerva asked tentatively, hoping against hope that she was wrong.

'Yes,' Leto assured her, nodding in a business-like fashion. 'Gryffindor, in fact, so I dare say you've seen her around. I assume, she had Charms first today and as far as Filius told me after class, she was brilliant - '

'Managed to Levitate her feather in the first attempt!' Filius squeaked at Minerva in an approving voice.

Leto simply ignored his comment. 'Well, quite a few students can manage _that_ in their first attempt; this wasn't the first time, so I wasn't that surprised. But then, during lunch hour, I came to look for you –'

'I was with Dumbledore.' Minerva stated flatly without listening to what her associate had to say.

'_Yes_,' Leto said through gritted teeth, with the aim of implying that the next person who interrupted her would be cursed into the last century. 'I know, Minerva, so do let me continue.'

Minerva glanced briefly over her shoulder and noticed that Horace, Filius and Jeremy were having an animated discussion over the same topic – the first year's inability to recollect her past. 'I quite agree with you,' she heard Jeremy say musingly to Horace, who looked positively thrilled that someone was taking into consideration his theory. 'But I quite agree with Leto, as well, I mean parents Obliviating their own daughter's memory is quite … improbable.'

'Indeed Jeremy,' Filius said, nodding his bearded head in vigorous approval. 'But the fact that she can remember spells and the like she may have learnt in the past, but cannot recollect her own parentage goes to show that it is indeed a memory modifying charm, and a very powerful one too. No other charm works that way.'

Minerva turned back to Leto, feeling slightly sick. 'Pray go on.'

Leto sighed and stared at Minerva in an rather peculiar way before she did so. 'Peeves had wreaked havoc down in the kitchens, you know, the usual … so I thought maybe we could go fix it together, since you're the only one, apart from Dumbledore 'course, who can actually handle that wretched poltergeist. But, you weren't there and … oh Minerva, you're not going to believe this -'

Leto glanced at Minerva momentarily, as if to see if Minerva was still paying attention. It suddenly occurred to Minerva that Leto might be expecting some anticipation on her part.

'What happened?' she asked with a credible imitation of enthusiasm and curiosity.

This seemed to satisfy Leto; at any rate, she continued pretentiously, 'Well, there were four first years, three from your own house and one was, I presume, from Slytherin-'

'Rightly so!' Horace commented, butting in blatantly.

Leto shot him an ugly glare in reply. 'Anyways, there was also … any guesses?' she asked Minerva.

'Leto, I'd appreciate it if you get on with the story.' Minerva told her wearily, absently shoving a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. 'I don't exactly indulge in guesswork.'

Leto smiled benignly and relented in an animated voice, 'There was also a PIG with them! It was apparently after the Slytherin girl, who looked mad enough to faint by then; and though the beast was practically harmless, she was still yelling her head off. Understand, Minerva that it was rather shocking for me to see a P-I-G (she spelt it out; like one would to a two year old) in your class which was unoccupied with the possible exception of the four first years. I presumed of course that it had been Transfigured since we do not breed pigs at Hogwarts-' she grinned at her own joke '- and logically it was impossible for the Slytherin to have done it –'

'Are you implying that Slytherins are good-for-nothings?' Horace enquired with some dignity, disrupting their conversation for the second time now.

Leto was on the verge of telling him off for interrupting them when smirked scathingly, very much wanting to agree, but in no mood to spark another debate between the Potions master and herself. 'Horace, I highly doubt someone would Transfigure a table into something they were very much afraid of.'

Horace could not think of a come-back to this, so the Hufflepuff head continued, 'And since the other two Gryffindors, blonde and brunette, were standing a bit apart enjoying the scene, they couldn't have done it … so I presumed the one standing in the front with a pensive expression on her face would be the one.'

'Pensive?' Minerva was puzzled.

'Uh uh.' Leto said, nodding. 'A girl of medium height, black hair and green eyes … lot like yours, Minerva –'

Minerva blinked in surprise and pushed back another runaway strand of her raven-black hair uncomfortably.

'Mia Bridger,' Pomona, who had been listening to the dialogue, pronounced for Minerva's benefit. 'And by the way Leto, her hair is auburn, not black …'

'It's black, all right!' Leto argued pointedly. 'I saw it, Pomona –'

'She's a Metamorphmagus.' Minerva stated quietly, yet perceptibly, causing the two witches to stop opposing each other and stare at her, instead. This made Minerva suddenly wished she hadn't said that.

'How do you know?' Leto enquired curiously.

It was a valid question. 'Dumbledore told me,' she lied, not exactly meeting their inquisitive gazes. 'And besides, her hair was auburn at the Sorting; just in case you two were too busy to notice.' she supplemented as an afterthought.

'So you do recognize the girl,' Pomona stated thoughtfully.

'Yes, now do go on.'

'Right … where were we … yeah … so it was pretty obvious, she had done it, but just to make sure that she did, I asked her and she assured me she had done it herself. Well, I was downright stunned that a first year could actually Transfigure a table into a pig, I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, Minerva but I believe even sixth years find that tricky.'

Minerva felt a fleeting surge of pride; but it vanished as soon as it had come.

'So, Minerva tell me, is it not possible for a Muggle-born to learn such magic from a book?' she asked testily. They had reached the point which Leto was so anxious to discuss and which Minerva had entirely forgotten owing to her interest in the story.

'It could be,' she replied somewhat lamely, '… if they're really good.'

Leto shot an exultant look at a much snubbed Horace who was distinctly heard saying, 'From where would she have got the book…' He made no effort, however, to point this out to the newly jubilant Leto and returned to his discussion with Filius and Jeremy. Minerva could have, of course, mentioned to Leto that being a Metamorphmagus, she could not be a Muggle-born, but she did not wish to draw attention to the fact that Horace's version of the story might actually have a lot of truth in it.

'Oh! These two,' Pomona Sprout sighed, glancing at them, exasperated. 'Always at the loggerheads … anyways,' she continued, strongly of the opinion that continuing the story was far more important than some pure-bloods-are-better-than-Muggle-borns-or-vice-versa argument. 'I guess the story of her genius reached the Great Hall far more quickly than herself … you know Hogwarts; it's like Rumours-Ville … and the minute she sat at the Gryffindor table, they rained her with questions …'

Minerva groaned inwardly. She could clearly recollect being a victim of her fellow Gryffindors' never-ending question-and-answer session after her first day.

_The one big difference. She had known who her parents were._

'Erm, yes …' Pomona said, clearing her throat stridently, since Minerva seemed to be lost in her own contemplations. 'They asked her all sorts of questions … I presume the ones about her parents were what perturbed her the most … so she yelled-'

'Yelled?' Minerva asked faintly, surprised that she had managed to speak. 'In the Great Hall?'

'Yes, but I wouldn't blame her for that … rattling someone with questions on their first day at school … she just left the Great Hall without any lunch, poor dear … was with Hagrid as far as I know, but – erm, Minerva, are you … alright?' For the Gryffindor head had just left her seat.

Minerva turned her head away; she knew she could not bear to hear more. Wishing her befuddled colleagues a hasty good-night, she left the staffroom, wondering if even Horace knew just how much truth there was to his words.

TBC

**A/N:** Hiya! Please let me know what you think … I really value your suggestions and reviews! I know Leto and Horace argue a lot, but I kinda like it that way. And, I _so_ cannot imagine Pomona yelling; but in my opinion that's fits in okay. And I really like the end of the chappie better than anything else … " … wondering if even Horace knew how much truth there was to his words … " I like the sound of it. Well, that's all for this chappie! The next one is, of course, as mentioned earlier, a meeting between Albus and Minerva. School schedule is really hectic, but I'll try my best to update soon. Please review, though!

And some of you had some questions regarding the story; I really have no time to send individual replies, so kindly be content with reading my author's notes and finding out …

First of all, this takes place some fifteen years before the Marauders. Secondly, just to clear things up – THERE IS NO CONNECTION BETWEEN MIA AND RIVERS PHOENIX (the Ravenclaw geek) though it is a good idea, I really can't afford to change the story line now.

By the way, the chapter – Fame on the first day, has accidentally been labelled as Chapter 10, when it is actually chapter 9 … sorry for the error. Also, no one seems to have noticed, but I've twisted the "boats across the lake" scene a bit on purpose … hope you don't mind!

And for all those who had to wait almost 8 weeks (I think) for me to update, thousand apologies … hope this chappie was worth the wait!

- Adios Amigos! … I guess that's Spanish or Mexican for "Goodbye friends" … can't be too sure … I picked it up from a Speedy Gonzales cartoon my brother was watching … ;) C'ya!


	12. Chapter 12 Reminiscenes

**Author's Notes **– Hiya! I am so sorry for posting Chapter 10 twice … I was actually using my friend's laptop (which can get tricky without a mouse) and I was in such a hurry to update, I messed up … big time =-( Thousand apologies!

I've posted a few more stories on the site – Solitary Grievances, Why not to fall in love with your boss' wife and Babysitting Blues and I'd love it if you guys can check those out as well…

Terribly sorry for the long update, thing is I've written this chapter in March, but I dunno, it didn't sound right … :( This chapter would probably, hands down, wins the award for the chapter re-written most number of times (by me). I wrote it no less than seventeen times (painful, very painful) and it still doesn't sound right … whaaa! But it's really important so, very regrettably, I can't even skip to the next chapter! Perhaps I'm bad at romance … ah, well … anyway, I ain't gonna write it no more. This is the final and (according to me) best version … so I posted this … enjoy! (hopefully)

Oh yeah, this chapter is largely from Minerva's POV, I would have liked to do Albus' POV but then, this is a continuation of the previous chapter.

**Disclaimers** – Yeah, I just happen to own all this 'cause, you see my first name's Joanne and middle name is Kathleen … but oh, damn, her last name's Rowling … and mine happens to be Rowland … puhleez … gimme a break!

**Chapter 12 – Reminiscences **

Minerva McGonagall irately ran the list of obtainable sweets at Honeydukes through her already disturbed mind.

'Chocolate Frog?' she pleaded with the stone gargoyle, unable to come up with a better guess.

The statute only smirked peevishly as Minerva wracked her brains for the possible name of a sweet that Albus had tasted last week and set as the new password to his office.

Wow, she thought cynically, I'm the Deputy Headmistress of the best wizarding school in all of Europe and possibly the world, was a former Auror, have written at least a dozen articles for Transfiguration Today, have blown up definitely _more_ than a dozen Dark wizards, won some number of awards etc, etc, etc and I still can't figure out the name of a _sweet_ that Dumbledore, _my husband_, would have set as the password. Just great.

The gargoyle was still leering at her unabashedly. When she had been younger, Minerva had supposed smirking was a gargoyle's primary occupation. This particular one had been leering at her ever since her first year at Hogwarts, when a very enraged and adamant young Minerva McGonagall had been sent up to the then Headmaster, Professor Dippet for having hexed a couple of Slytherins who had called her friend a Mudblood. No one had ever called anyone a Mudblood in her presence after that, possibly due to the fact that the Slytherins had to spend more than three weeks in the Hospital Wing after she been through with them.

'Sugar … um … quills?' she tried again desperately, squinting at the gargoyle. Her knowledge of sweets was clearly negligible, which was surprising, since Albus was such a great aficionado of all things saccharine. She wasn't even sure if "Sugar Quills" were a name of a sweet or not.

'Minerva?' an all-too-familiar voice called out presently.

The tall witch spun on her heels quizzically; only to find the lithe figure of Albus Dumbledore standing framed against the dark entrance of the passageway; his star-spangled midnight blue robes glittering eerily in the shadows. His blue eyes were alight with the usual twinkle and his pale lips were twitching slightly. For some reason, the sight of Minerva struggling to deduce the password seemed to amuse him.

'Albus, if you don't mind …' she said, rolling her eyes and pointing jerkily towards the perpetually-leering stone figurine, though the fact that she was relieved was rather evident. She had harboured no intention whatsoever, of spending the night trying to speculate the password to his office.

'My dear Minerva, such a simple password …' he remarked, making no effort to hide the amused expression on his face, while she attempted in vain to, as usual, glare at him. 'Choco-bar!' he declared happily, and much to Minerva's annoyance, the gargoyle sprang to life.

'Honestly, Albus,' she returned, feeling snubbed. 'If it were some sensible password like a complex spell or the like, it would be–'

' - much easier to remember _for_ _you_ and alas, also much easier to guess.' Albus completed for her. 'On the other hand, having a password like this-'

' - is something no one would even dream about.' Minerva finished wearily for him. Both knew what the other was going to say even before they said it, probably owing to the fact that they had this argument every time Albus changed the password without letting Minerva know beforehand.

Albus bowed in a mock gentleman-like fashion, his cerulean-blue eyes twinkling almost mischievously as he snaked his arm through Minerva's and alighted the continually moving stone staircase behind the gargoyle. The wall behind them closed with a dull "thud" and the pair moved upwards in tight circles until they reached a highly polished oak door with a golden griffin-shaped knocker.

The door opened of it's own accord and Minerva and Albus stepped into a semi-dark room with strange silver instruments standing on the tables and emitting smoky puffs, portraits of the former headmasters and headmistresses sleeping in golden frames (or shamming sleep, Minerva thought, smirking) and a spectacular golden-red bird dozing on it's perch, it's head buried in it's magnificently vibrant plumage (which Albus conveniently called his "phoenix" and to which Minerva simply liked to refer to as a flashy, oversized peacock with serious genetic mutations).

The duo did not stop here; instead, they continued down the room to a somewhat overstuffed bookcase, where Albus tapped his wand against a fat, poorly-covered book, partially hidden amongst the various other titles wadding the groaning ledge and silently muttered an incantation. The bookshelf moved aside noiselessly to reveal a small opening; rather like the portrait hole behind the Fat Lady. Albus clambered into the hole and Minerva followed after him in her usual elegant fashion. Then, she turned back to seal the entrance, while Albus waved his wand randomly lighting a few candles here and there so as to illuminate the pitch-black room and flopped jadedly into a settee.

This new chamber was rather large and equally magnificent. It had a huge, stony fireplace in the front which Minerva lit with a swish of her wand before she sank resignedly into one of the comfy, low-backed, oriental-patterned sofas in front of the now-blazing hearth. The rear walls were mostly covered with enormous book-cases and the rest of the room was dotted with a writing table here and a delicate, antique ornament there and a few empty picture frames adorned the scarlet and golden walls. To the extreme right, was a narrow, unlit passageway leading to the inner rooms.

Minerva had been here on countless occasions before, but having spent her first day back in her own chambers, this would be her first time here after her long teaching break. And she could not say that Albus had done anything to improve its appearance or atmosphere in the eleven years of her absence.

'Same as you left it,' Albus commented, having noticed her deep interest in the manifestation of the room.

'I see,' she said somewhat stiffly, taking her eyes off the half-bare walls and turning to stare at him instead, head cocked to one side. 'You seem to be in rather high spirits.' she observed astutely.

Albus smiled enigmatically in reply, stroking his long, auburn beard to occupy his idle fingers.

'Come on,' Minerva said seriously. 'Spill the beans. Let the cat out of the bag.'

'Oh, I certainly will, Tabby,' Albus replied roguishly, getting back at her.

Minerva sighed for no apparent reason, and then as the painful recollection of that evening's events came back to her, she dropped her light-hearted approach at once. Albus did not fail to notice the sudden change in expression on her face, doubtlessly something to do with the events of the past day. He got up from the settee and sat down next to her.

'Minerva?' He put his arm around her shoulders comfortingly and nuzzled her neck gently.

'Hmm-mm.'

'Is anything …' Albus just let his sentence hang; knowing Minerva would understand what he meant to ask her anyway.

Minerva stifled a shaky sort of a smile. 'I'll let you know. Why don't you go on?' she suggested, not really wanting to talk about her unsettling thoughts and ruin his seemingly cheerful mood, the reason of which she was admittedly curious to know. She leaned back against his shoulders for comfort.

'Go on?' Albus wondered, sounding puzzled, wondering what on earth she was talking. Then, all of a sudden he realised what she had been referring to.

'Ah…'

'Hmm.'

Albus looked at her, troubled by her refusal to utter anything but "hmm". Minerva was still smiling shakily, like someone smiling even when there was nothing amusing about the situation.

'Albus, I'm fine,' she remarked dismissively, responding to his worried gaze; albeit this only convinced him of the opposite. 'Really … now tell me why you are in such high spirits.'

Minerva hadn't exactly seen Albus this happy since … some eleven years ago; in other words, quite a long time ago. So, she was obviously curious as to the reason of his sudden happiness. Today hadn't exactly brightened her up; but it seemed to have done more than that for her husband.

'Albus?'

'You seemed to have been lost in your thoughts,' he observed musingly, pulling her hair out of it's typically tight bun and stroking it tenderly, probably the only one in the world who could dare to do such a thing without bringing about a violent explosion of Minerva's legendary temper and getting himself hexed into oblivion.

'Yes, but do go on.'

Albus Dumbledore shifted into a slightly more comfortable position on the couch and assumed the look of a pompous storyteller about to recount an epic narrative. Minerva smiled despite herself and shot him a look that clearly said – "you're hopeless". Albus sighed in response and pulled her more closely in his embrace.

'Yes, well, see dear, … I've had the pleasure of meeting Miss _Bridger _last night.'

There was something about the way in which he stated it that Minerva should have observed, but she, being preoccupied with the evening's disturbing experiences, winced slightly at the name, then, merely smiled understandingly and said, 'At the Sorting?'.

'No, my dear,' he corrected her delicately, his long fingers still running through her hair, though she hardly felt it. 'Personally.'

She sat bolt upright, her eyes widening slightly as though he was trying to be humorous at a very wrong time. 'You went to the Gryffindor common room?' she asked him dubiously. 'Albus, why would you do such a thing?'

And only then, did she realise that he hadn't mentioned this when he had come down to her rooms last night. In fact, she had hardly given him a chance to say anything at all; she had been so guilty, anguished and distressed by what had happened earlier that day, or rather, _what she had done _earlier that day that she had just held him tight and fallen asleep in his arms without uttering a word. She knew he would have probably wanted to talk about what had happened, but she did not trust herself to speak without crying and any topic that involved their daughter only made her insides squirm with guilt.

_All her stupid fault._

And falling asleep had seemed to be an easy solution out. At that time. Though, now she regretted it more than ever.

Indeed, Albus had wanted to talk last night. The whole Obliviating-their-own-daughter's-memory-for-the-sake-of-her-god-damned-safety had been tremendously hard on her, he knew; but she hadn't wanted to talk and he respected that. Perhaps, sometimes, unsettling thoughts were best left alone. Deep down inside, Albus too sometimes felt doubt lurking in his mind, as hard as he tried to push them away, thinking it _was _for her safety, they still stayed there, overwhelming him at some point of time or another. Albus was aware of how this would have affected Minerva all the more, after all, he had … he had never truly known her …

Even in the light of the dim candles and glowing embers, he noticed Minerva's face flush faintly to a soft, pastel pink. He knew she had not meant to hurt his feelings when she had said that; regret was written all over her face. She too, knew she hadn't. She had just said it without thinking.

_Why would he do such a thing?_ The answer was so evident. _Crystal clear_. Albus had rarely ever seen Mia during her waking hours. He hadn't even had a single civilized conversation with her. _His own daughter_. The only time he had seen her was when she had been asleep or when she had been very, very young. Too young to understand and recollect anything she had seen. Too young to recollect the faces of the people around her.

Their daughter_ had_ known who her mother was. But she had never known her father.

'Oh, Albus, I'm so sorry,' she whispered guiltily, looking up at him, her eyes lined with tears, close to falling. 'But it didn't have to be that way…'

Of course, it didn't have to be that way. The whole thing had been Albus' ridiculous idea in the first place. It was _he_ who suggested that Minerva should quit her job and stay home to look after Mia. _He_ who had suggested that Minerva care for her alone. Minerva had protested vehemently against this. Why? Why shouldn't a child have the right to know who her father is? And now, who her parents are? The question still brought tears to her eyes.

Obviously, Albus had answered why. Grindelwald's campaign had only just been crushed. There were so many people who would do anything to avenge his downfall. So many who would want revenge on Dumbledore for what had happened, for what he had done to Grindelwald. If anyone found out … he dare not contemplate what would happen then. He just didn't want to give them a chance to hurt the two people he loved the most in the world.

And besides, as Albus put it, he did not want to deprive her of a normal childhood simply because her parents were powerful and influential in the wizarding world. Minerva disagreed however; in her opinion, no child could have a "normal" childhood if she didn't know who her real parents were.

_**Flashback.**_

_Winds howled wildly, causing the curtains to flap harshly against the stony walls of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. The doors of the infirmary swung inwards and a tall, lean figure stepped through the open doors. Poppy Pomfrey craned her neck across the shoulders of the young Hufflepuff girl whose bleeding arm she had been healing and saw the svelte figure of Minerva McGonagall standing hesitantly near the door._

_Poppy turned back to the shy, young girl, healed her arm quickly as she could and sent her back to her dormitory. As the doors swung shut behind her long braid of mousy brown hair, the Hospital wing was quite deserted with the exception of the two witches._

'_Minerva?' Poppy called out, as Minerva walked towards her, slowly and tentatively. 'Are you … alright?'_

_Poppy Pomfrey had known Minerva since as long as she could remember; the two had been best friends since their days at Hogwarts and Poppy was one of the select few who knew the well-concealed truth about Minerva and Albus' relationship. And yet, in all those years of their intimacy, Poppy Pomfrey had never seen Minerva look so uncertain as she did now. Just the prospect of her laconic and orderly friend behaving strangely was worrying her. _

_Minerva looked up at Poppy through bloodshot and watery eye. Poppy noticed her sway dangerously and dragged her to the nearest bed, forcing her to sit down. Minerva sat obligingly, but uttered not a word._

'_Minerva,' Poppy pointed out in an anxious voice, shaking her slightly for she seemed to be in a daze. 'Minerva?'_

_Minerva bit her lower lip apprehensively and looked up at Poppy; their eyes met and for a moment, the medi-witch glimpsed the trepidation, fear and misery etched in her deep, green eyes._

'_I don't know, Poppy,' she said finally, tearing away from Poppy's scrutinizing albeit concerned gaze. 'It's…not…perhaps, maybe…'_

'_Oh, Minerva, get to the point!' she pleaded frantically, a hysteric edge to her voice. Minerva's behaviour was starting to scare her. 'What happened? Poppy glanced at Minerva, truly worried now, hoping Minerva would open up and tell her what was troubling her so much._

'_I've thought about it, but it's not fair, not on both of them…' Tears flooded all of a sudden down her cold face._

'_Thought what?' Poppy asked her, startled to see her weeping. Minerva rarely ever cried; this would only be the second time Poppy had seen her do so and it was alarming her. 'Min?'_

'_I simply can't happen, Poppy, you know, it must … it can't … what will Albus do if …I can't give up…' her voice broke as Poppy continued to stare at her rambling form, her mind spinning as she noticed that Minerva was talking about two people other that herself … was it possible?_

'_Min, listen –'_

'_Poppy, what's wrong with me? Well, maybe not …' _

'_But Minerva -'_

'_Don't tell me, Poppy … it can't be … it's not possible. Don't say it, Poppy … please…' More tears leaked down her face and Poppy could recollect just once when she _

_had seen Minerva as miserable as this._

'_Minerva, listen to me,' Poppy said loudly, trying to bring her friend back to earth. She flicked her wand randomly a few times and determined that Minerva was undeniably, as she had rightly believed, pregnant. _

'_Minerva!' Poppy held her best friend's arm and helped her sit up straight. Her emerald green eyes were still glistening with tears, her hair was out of it's typically tight bun and was falling unceremoniously over her face and her glasses, slightly askew._

'_Poppy, it's not true,' Minerva said in a ghost of a whisper, grabbing Poppy's arm and squeezing it uncomfortably tight. 'Tell me it's not true, Pops … please … I can't bear it … it just cannot…' _

_Poppy realized Minerva already knew what had happened and had only come to seek assurance of the opposite._

'_It's true, Minerva,' she returned gently, trying to comfort her distressed friend but at the same time attempting to help her embrace the reality of the situation. 'It's as true as I am.'_

'_It can't, Poppy,' Minerva whispered hoarsely, looking thoroughly shocked. 'It's not that… why is it always me …'_

'_Minerva, maybe it's not as bad as you make it to be,' Poppy argued reasonably, stroking Minerva soothingly on the back. _

'_Not bad!' she shrieked. 'What about Albus?' Minerva cried, leaning heavily on Poppy's shoulder. 'I can't tell Albus, Poppy … he always said no child deserved such a dangerous life.. it's my fault ….'_

'_Minerva, don't be stupid!' Poppy replied firmly though she herself was not entirely convinced of it. Poppy knew how precarious it was for Minerva to be Dumbledore's wife; let alone mother of his child. But she also knew how it would tear Albus apart if she hid this from him. 'This is not your fault … it's not anyone's fault. And you're going to tell Albus whatever there is to tell, Minerva or you'll regret it.' Softening her tone, she continued, 'He loves you to bits, Minerva … give him a chance and he'll love your child too.'_

'_Poppy, please… you don't understand … he knew it was too dangerous … We knew it was too dangerous … we simply can't drag a child into this mess,' Minerva begged miserably but Poppy was adamant._

'_Listen to me, Min,' Poppy cajoled her, slowly patting her back and wiping away her best friend's tears. 'Just give him a chance … you know he loves you.'_

'_But, Poppy,' a frantic and disconcerted Minerva wailed. 'The child! What about the child, Poppy … if anyone finds out … it's perilous enough being his wife, Poppy but what about my baby?'_

_Poppy was sure, at that moment, by the way Minerva was talking that she would not even dream of aborting the baby; she thanked whatever deities there were on the planet for the fact that she wasn't going to. However, she was still refusing point blank to tell Albus anything._

'_Don't you dare tell him, Poppy, don't you dare,' Minerva mumbled threateningly, biting her lip, as she clutched the headboard of the bed for support. 'You don't understand…'_

_Usually, Minerva would have ended up having her way, but now, for once, Poppy was resolute as well._

'_What don't I understand, Minerva?' Poppy returned testily, though not unkindly. 'There's nothing to understand. Albus cares for you more dearly than anything else … and I know you love him as much too … so if you're going to be the mother of his child, you should tell him. Whatever it is, you can go through it together, Minerva and I promise you he'll love your child as much as you do. Just don't hide it from him, Minerva, it'll tear him …'_

'_Don't tell him,' Minerva repeated blankly in a ghost of a voice. 'Please…'_

'_I won't,' Poppy promised sincerely, stroking Minerva's back sympathetically. 'But you will. Love will find a way, Minerva McGonagall Dumbledore. it always does. Just believe in it.' _

_~*~*~*~_

_Albus Dumbledore gazed pensively at the hearth. The crackling fire reflected fiercely in his cerulean blue eyes as hundreds of unspoken thoughts whirled through his mind; the foremost, of late, being Minerva. _

_He stood up from the hard-backed chintz chair to stretch his uncomfortably stiff legs and walked to the window that overlooked the grassy grounds of Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest beyond, trying to recollect the time when she had last eaten a decent meal. She had not been keeping well for several weeks now and Albus was concerned about her deteriorating health. No matter how much she kept insisting that she was well, Albus had never been entirely convinced by her half-hearted assurances and had suggested she meet up with Poppy whenever she could spare the time. _

_He remained lost in his thoughts until the oaken doors to his rooms slid open and the very person on his mind - his wife stepped in, shutting the door noiselessly behind her. Minerva sat down on a couch in front of the hearth and Albus noticed she looked more unwell than ever, her face pale and her cheekbones protruding slightly. Albus moved away from the windowsill and sat down beside her._

'_Albus … I want to … tell you … some … something,' Minerva said hesitantly, looking up at him, uncertainty clearly written on her pale face. Albus thought she looked like she had been crying though he could not, for the world of him, imagine why._

'_What is it, Minerva dear?' Albus asked her gently, nearing her and slipping his arms around her waist for which Minerva was grateful. 'Did you visit Poppy?'_

_Minerva stared at him for a moment, wondering how he had found out, when she realized that it had been he who had suggested visiting the medi-witch in the first place. She whispered guardedly, 'Yes. Albus, I … I –'_

_And without any warning, she burst into tears; Albus, anxious and fretful about her as he was already, still pulled her close affectionately and held her in his arms as she cried, waiting till she calmed down enough to speak to him._

'_Albus, I love you,' she said in a voice thick with emotion, her frail arms wrapped around him, holding on tightly for dear life, her head buried in his chest._

'_Minerva, I love you too,' he returned tenderly, kissing the back of her neck. 'What's wrong, Minerva?' he asked her, gently holding up her face in his hands._

'_Albus, I'm pr… pr,' she stuttered, pulling away from his hands shakily and burying her head in his robes. 'Oh, Albus, I'm so sorry…' she mumbled. _

'_Sorry for what?'_

'_Albus, I –' Minerva fumbled, her mind battling heatedly as to whether she should tell him the truth or not. And as Poppy's words echoed in her unresolved mind, on pure impulse, she settled for the truth. Holding up Albus' hand in her own, she placed it on her ever-so-slightly protruding stomach and whispered in a ghost of a voice, 'I'm pregnant.'_

_It was as though time itself had stopped; the room stood noiseless. The only sound that could be heard apart from the gentle wheezing from the portrait of a long dead Headmaster were the faint sobs of the woman muffled by velvety robes._

_Albus Dumbledore held on to his wife as she wept; his prolonged silence only convincing Minerva that Albus was mad at her, that he hated her for what she had just said. She pulled herself from his uncomfortably tight embrace, tears still sliding down her face, and gazed straight into his eyes of China blue._

_She was somewhat stunned by what she saw; for there etched in his cerulean blue eyes was every emotion she herself had felt when she had found out about her pregnancy – shock, fear, apprehension, and worry – but there was something else in his azure eyes which Minerva had failed to see at first, probably because it was overwhelmed by other emotions, even though very much there – happiness._

'_Congratulations, dearest,' he whispered in a very emotion-choked voice, surprised at the fact that he had found his tongue; and for a while they could only stare at each other, dazed and lost for words. 'This is … this is wonderful!'_

'_You don't mean it,' Minerva said finally in a very flat voice, shaking her head at his reply, which seemed too good to be true, tears still trailing down her face. 'Albus, I'm so very sorry … '_

'_Sorry for what?' Albus asked her, drawing her back into his arms and kissing her forehead and then her abdomen, gently so. He looked back at Minerva and she was somewhat surprised to see a single pearly tear cascade down his face and trickle into his beard. 'It's our baby growing inside you, Minerva dear, why are you crying?'_

'_I could ask you the same thing,' Minerva breathed, smiling through her tears, as Albus' hand tenderly brushed them off. 'I just thought maybe …' _

'_Oh, Minerva,' Albus returned gently, tightening the embrace as his lips met hers in a tender kiss, for what seemed like an eternity. 'I love you –' he rested his hands gently on her stomach – ' and our child … and you don't have to be sorry. I really mean what I say.'_

_~*~*~*~_

_The night's events had somewhat reassured Minerva a bit; and yet she could not help but feel apprehensive at her unborn child's fate. Stroking her stomach lovingly, she walked into the hall, only half-dressed, to find Albus there, wide awake and scribbling away scores of letters at his desk with a feathery, green quill._

'_Ah, Minerva,' he said when he saw her, smiling and abandoning the letters at once as he stood up to greet his wife. Minerva noticed that his eyes seemed to be filled with some unstated grief, not knowing that her husband was about to make one of the most difficult decisions of their lives … and that of their unborn child._

'_Albus, are you alright?' she asked him anxiously, biting her lower lip._

_Albus did not reply immediately; instead, he shut his eyes tightly as if steeling himself, opened them again and said, very slowly and clearly, 'Minerva, I've decided … you'll have to care for our child alone.' His eyes did not meet hers._

_Minerva stared at him in incredulity, eyes wide in both shock and surprise; she could not quite believe what she was hearing._

'_What?'_

'_I've decided,' Albus repeated, very gradually, though he was quite sure she had heard perfectly well, the first time, 'you'll have to care for our child alone.'_

'_And may I at least know why?' she asked him shakily, leaning on a small, antique stone bust for support and trying her best not to explode in fury. _

'_Minerva, it would be unfair to deprive our child of a normal childhood simply because of me, because of who I am…' he whispered forlornly, shaking his head._

'_Don't tell me it's because of that, Albus,' Minerva breathed unsteadily, willing herself not to yell. 'I don't care who you are … and I know it's not because of that … I can tell as much … tell me the truth, Albus Dumbledore, I want the truth …'_

_Albus' blue eyes met hers for a split second, they seemed to be beseeching her to understand. Finally, he reconciled and whispered in a pained voice entirely different from the one he had spoken in seconds before, 'I can't risk it, Minerva … try to understand … can't and won't.' He looked away agonizingly, unable to meet her hurt gaze any more._

'_Risk what, Albus? I don't care what you say … it's our child!' Minerva said firmly if dubiously, now fighting back tears. 'He or she has every right to know who you are! And what difference will it make? How can someone possibly have a "normal childhood" if they don't even know who their parents are?!'_

'_Minerva,' Albus said softly, trying to console his distraught and slightly hysterical wife and more importantly his own torn self. 'It's not possible, dear … people I considered to be family were killed because of me, because they knew me … I love you, Minerva and I love our child too, more dearly than I could possibly say … I just don't want anything to happen to either of you because of _me. _It was _my_ fault … ,' his voice shook slightly and he closed his eyes again, bracing himself, before he continued, ' … it was my fault before and I cannot take it if it happens again.' _

_The bitterness, resentment and anguish with which he stated this alone made Minerva stop protesting and walk up to him. Holding his grief-stricken face in her hands, she whispered gently, 'But Albus, one day ... you can't hide the truth forever … some day, he or she'll have to know…'_

'_Then,' Albus said, sighing and kissing her hand tenderly, his eyes etched with unfathomable pain, 'I shall wait until that one day.' _

_**End Flashback. **_

So Minerva had raised her daughter alone. When Mia had been younger, Albus had almost always been there with her, forever cradling her in his arms and kissing her tiny forehead lovingly while she gurgled happily and wrapped her tiny, stubby, little fingers around his long ones; sometimes pulling his long bread while he tried to scold her one-year old self sternly, but failed miserably and ended up laughing instead. Seeing them together had always bought a smile on Minerva's face. However, as she grew older, Albus would only visit at night when she would be asleep. Sometimes, he would go to her room, fondle her soft, pale cheeks and run his hands through her hair gently. But otherwise, he just watched her growing up in the distance.

Minerva often wondered if Albus had ever regretted his decision. Every time she saw him with their daughter, he seemed to have this inexplicable air of angst around him, like he was stung by the injustices of the world. Minerva had always felt the same way. But if Albus ever felt that way he had never voiced it. Not even to her.

Throughout all this, Minerva's main dread was that one day when Mia would be old enough to attend Hogwarts. It had been rather obvious that Mia would attend Hogwarts, there was no doubt about that … but the fact remained that if she went there as Minerva McGonagall's daughter … it would only raise awkward questions as to who her father was.

Minerva McGonagall's fatherless daughter – "Whose little kitten is that?" – By-line by Geraldine Skeeter, as she could well imagine. The famous Minerva McGonagall had a daughter with no father. It was news that was capable of setting the Daily Prophet and every other wizarding newspaper and magazine on fire. It was one of those rare times when Minerva wished she wasn't so famed and so well-known in the wizarding world. Forsaking her own daughter had been a very great price to pay for that recognition.

And to spare them both of the unnecessary torture of public pestering, Albus had come up with what Minerva could only call the worst of all his brilliant plans … though she knew it was unavoidable … and that there was no there way out. It pained her to know that one day when she would have to Obliviate her own daughter's memory. Wipe out all those remembrances. And watch from a distance.

It had only been two days and yet Minerva already had a very good idea of how Albus must have felt over those eleven years.

Moreover, the staff room gossip session had only added to all her worries.

Mia had already found out that she couldn't recollect her past. She had already realised that she didn't know who her parents were. And she would probably go to any lengths to find out. Minerva knew her daughter was, like herself, extremely headstrong. Once she had decided to do something; she would do it, no matter what. That is, unless someone managed to talk some sense into her and she listened to them. But there was only one in a thousand chances of her actually heeding their advice.

Minerva suddenly realised that all this while she hadn't said a word to Albus. Turning to face him, she noticed he was silent as well, his pensive face lit by the dull glow of the dying embers. She sighed as she apprehended how long she must have spent reminiscing and clasped his large, warm hands in her own.

'I apologize, Minerva,' he said, coming out of his reverie instantly. 'I was somewhat lost in contemplation.'

'It doesn't matter, Albus darling,' Minerva replied, smiling ruefully, as she leant back against him gently. 'I was doing just the same.'

He smiled back and withdrew his hand from hers slowly and placed it around her shoulders again. She sank into his broad chest, feeling the softness of his robes and the warmth of his body.

'Looks like we've forgotten the present and been wandering in the past instead,' Albus commented, running his fingers smoothly through her raven black hair once more.

'Umm-hmm,' Minerva responded distantly, lost partly in her thoughts and partly in the warmth of Albus' body. 'Perhaps we should just forget the present and dwell on the past for this one day.'

'Yes, of course,' Albus said, smiling benignly at his contemplative wife. 'No hurry … our stories of the present can always wait.'

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**A/N: ** Okay, next four chapters are already written, probably be up next week. Thanks once again for the reviews and for all those who've sent anonymous reviews, here are the answers to your queries –

_**T**_ – I'm guessing most of your questions were answered in this chapter, though about Minerva's parents … mmm, that will come, surely … but later; Poppy provide a very vague hint about that in this chappie … see if you can spot it.

_**Brightshadow**_ – I guess that's the catch … perhaps Hagrid doesn't know …

- C'ya … from a very delighted Lee (aka Nymph of the Night)


	13. Chapter 13 Flying High

**Author's Notes** – Hiya, my fave chap … hope you enjoy! Thanks for the reviews, they make my day!

**Disclaimers** – No infringement intended.

**Chapter 13 – Flying high**

'Wing-ad-ri-yum Le-vi-oh-sa!'

'It's Win-gaaardi-yum, Cornelia!'

'Oh, damn … sorry, Mia … Wingardium Leviosssah ……… ARRGH! … I–just-can't-get-this-stupid-thing!'

'Of course, you can do it! Don't be silly … just concentrate. And while your at it, try to have some conviction in yourself.'

'Conviction in myself, yeah right!'

'Come on, Cornelia!'

'_MIA!'_

'Just focus on the feather … concentrate … have faith in yourself … and say– '

'_Mi-aaa_!'

'Hang on a minute there, Alex … I'm busy …'

'Oh, just pass me your Transfiguration notes, for heaven's sakes … I can't understand a word I've scribbled in here …'

'You would have, if you were paying _attention_ when Professor McGonagall was teaching instead of analysing precisely how cute Joshua Lang was and trying to trace his dreadlocks on the parchment!'

'I _was_ paying attention … or at least, trying to … but he was just _so_ damn cute … Transfiguration is _just_ not my subject … anyways, the notes, _please_.'

'Transfiguration notes … gosh, where are they … umm, here … right, Cornelia where was I?'

'You were saying something about concentrating - listen, just forget it, Mia … it's no use … I accept it - I'm terrible.'

'Of course, you're not … '

'Any luck yet, Corny?'

'Alex, two words. Shut. Up.'

'Sorry, Professor Bridger.'

'Alexannah!'

'Oookay, I'll mind my own business.'

'Alexannah's right, Mia, I'm no good … I've been trying all evening and I'm still pathetic.'

'Look, just because I can do all this already, doesn't mean you'll be able to as well. Besides, everyone has their own strengths and weakness.'

'Look who's talking … you're perfect in everything. Let me spell it out for you – P-E-R-F-E-C-T, perfect.'

'Except in chess. She's pathetic at it. Totally.'

'Umm, right, okay. Maybe except in chess.'

'Forget about me … I'm not saying you guys are not trying hard enough … you just don't have faith in yourself. Just believe in yourself and try hard … and things will work out … _eventually_.'

'Like that'll do any good.'

'Oh, you'll be surprised when you find out, Alex.'

'Well, I'll just wait till that "eventually" arrives.'

'Alex, you're not exactly helping here, did you know?'

'Hrmph.'

'Whatever you say, Mia … but this is _so_ the last time…'

'Just calm down … focus on the feather … concentrate … believe in yourself … and say the incantation. It's simple.'

'(deep breath) Win-gaar-di-yum Le-vi-oh-sa! … oh, I can't look!'

'Cornelia, you _can_ open your eyes now, you know.'

'Omigosh! … C-Cornelia, I can't believe you … you did it!'

'What did I tell you?'

'I did it? I did it?! I DID IT!! … oh, Mia … I can't … ahh!'

It was a blustery Wednesday evening and Alexannah, Mia and Cornelia were all comfortably seated in the snug Gryffindor common room. For the past two hours, Alexannah had been hurriedly scribbling away half a dozen or so essays that she had so carelessly put off all week, yelling out frantically in between either to check some ambiguous fact or to borrow someone else's notes since hers were too illegible. Cornelia had been jabbing her wand wildly in mid-air, trying to Levitate the accursed feather with very pitiable results, while Mia had been languidly flicking through a thick, leather-bound, seventh year Transfiguration reference book she had borrowed from the Hogwarts library earlier that day for the lack of anything to do. At the same time, she had also been trying to teach Cornelia _how_ precisely to Levitate her feather, but Cornelia just had no faith in herself.

Now, however the scene was rather different; Cornelia was dancing across the room, shrieking happily, much to the annoyance of the other Gryffindors who were all trying to get some last minute work done. Alexannah was staring with her mouth open in an 'O' of shocked surprise and blinking dumbly while Mia was grinning broadly, exceedingly amused by both Cornelia's overenthusiastic reaction and Alexannah unutterable disbelief. The petite blonde had spent the entire evening and the week before attempting to convince Cornelia that she had no aptitude for Charms and that she might as well give up; so Cornelia's abrupt accomplishment had come as a bit of a shock to her. Mia, on the other hand, had no doubts that Cornelia would succeed … as she put it - "eventually". She clapped her hand on a dumbfounded Alexannah's back and rolled her eyes.

'Come on, Alex,' she said laughing, while Cornelia still pranced across the room in sheer delight. 'Get over it … your mouth is still open.'

Alexannah snapped her mouth shut brusquely. 'How did she just …' she whispered in wonderment. 'I mean, she'd been trying all evening. Not to mention, the entire last week!'

'Like I said, relax, believe in yourself and you'll succeed eventually,' Mia returned coolly. 'Perhaps if you try, you'd have better luck with Transfiguration.'

'Nah, I'm no good.' Alexannah said resignedly, finally taking her eyes off a now-jigging Cornelia and returning back to her unfinished Astronomy essay on Jupiter's many moons.

'That's just what Cornelia said when she started,' Mia pointed out encouragingly, giving her one last heartening pat on the back and returning to her seat.

Alexannah looked up hopefully, but Mia was already immersed in the book, her chin resting on her hand as her eyes darted across so fast, they appeared to be a green blur. Cornelia came back; sighing as the happy spell wore off and sat down jadedly next to a somewhat discomfited Alexannah.

The first two weeks of the term had drawn to a close in a blink of an eye and Hogwarts was getting more homely to the first-years by the day. The trio had finally learnt to find their way around the castle unaided, though they were still very much wary of the trick stairs, blank walls, wrong turns and most of all, Peeves the havoc-wreaking poltergeist, whom they had already (and rather unfortunately) run into twice. Alexannah seemed to find him a tad more annoying than the other two, probably owing to the fact that he had stuck a huge wad of strawberry flavoured chewing gum in her hair just before Potions class and Slughorn had innocently questioned her as to whether sticking wads of gum in one's hair was a new fashion amongst youngsters these days.

Nearly Headless Nick was, though very helpful, rather irritatingly pompous at times, pretentiously narrating incessant anecdotes of his adventurous exploits in the past and his heroic feuds with the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin Ghost, half of which they found hard to accept as true, since they had never seen Nick and the Baron together at any point of time. The Fat Friar, the Hufflepuff ghost, had taken an unfathomable liking to Cornelia and on those rare occasions when he met her in the corridors, he kept insisting, much to her bewilderment, that she looked very much like his great granddaughter's niece, Ophelia Smithers.

Classes, with the probable omission of History of Magic, were also more appealing now that the fundamentals had been drilled into their largely curious heads. History of Magic was taught by the oh-so-boring Professor Binns who put Alexannah to sleep the minute he began lecturing about what he considered to be dreadfully exciting and bloody wizarding wars in his droning voice. Mia spent the period by reading borrowed library books, taking random notes or doodling on the parchment while Cornelia had developed a certain fondness for playing hangman with Cindy Miller, a fellow Gryffindor, to pass time. Somehow, History of Magic was Mia's favourite subject after Transfiguration … she apparently found reading history very interesting, much to Alexannah's and Cornelia's bewilderment.

Mia had no particular fondness towards Herbology, which was taught in the greenhouses by Professor Sprout, a kind, dumpy, untidy, little witch, probably because she found it comparatively easy and fairly boring. Cornelia, and Alexannah in particular, begged to differ and kept persisting that there was nothing lacklustre about replanting potted Fluke flowers or copying complicated diagrams of Gas brow plants and Venus dragon traps. They were, almost always, treated to a pair of rolling, emerald eyes in return to their defensive assertions.

Professor Slughorn, the walrus-like, large bellied Potions Professor, had indisputably befuddled them all by walking around the room during their first class and inquiring about everyone's ancestry. A balding, corpulent man whose classes were held in the arctic dungeons, he occasionally stopped at a student and chatted amicably with him for a while if he discovered that their parent or relatives were influential or well-established in the wizarding world while treating others as a part of the wall. He seemed to recognized Alexannah's mother ('Ah! Alexia Truman, is it? My dear child, certainly, I know her … brilliant Potioneer … subtle and sharp-minded, Ravenclaw wasn't she? I take that she has of late been promoted to Head Healer at St. Mungos? Yes, indeed…' he had bustled when Alexannah had bashfully introduced herself.)

Mia was not in the least impressed by his cold indifference to Muggle-borns, rather she was contemptuous of his apathetic nature. Given that Gryffindors had Potions with the Slytherins and since Mia hadn't the faintest inkling as to which her parents were, she had tried to make herself scarce by shifting into the shadows, which admittedly, offered a poor hiding place and so Slughorn had fixed his inquisitive eyes on her in the end.

'And you are?' he asked, observing her greedily as though summing her up, though largely different from the genial way Professor Dumbledore had nights before.

'Mia Bridger,' she murmured quietly, wishing fervently that he wouldn't question her further. However, the minute she uttered her name, Slughorn stared at her with a flicker of deepest interest and curiosity.

'Mia Bridger, is it?' he repeated, smiling and eyeing her more pryingly than ever. 'Ah! I see, what Leto meant … green eyes … auburn hair … you do look a lot like Minerva when she was younger (Mia blinked in exasperation; she wished people would stop pointing out her resemblance to her Transfiguration Professor; it was exasperating) … you're a Metamorphmagus, are you not, m'girl?'

There were audible gasps from the class; everyone was staring at her, apparently intrigued by the sudden revelation. Mia nodded, slightly curious as to how he had found out this particular bit of information. Professor Slughorn observed her closely once more; smiled and moved down the line. Mia had an uneasy feeling that he was going to get back to her after a while.

Her queasy feeling proved to be rather accurate – Slughorn had kept hovering around her table, like a vulture round a fresh carcass during the entire lesson, and at regular intervals, kept pointing out to the much annoyed class, the perfect way in which she had crushed her snake fangs or stewed her horned slugs. It was only near the end of the class that he finally pronounced Mia's potion as flawless and, much to Mia's relief, left the table.

'What was that?' Mia muttered in an undertone to Cornelia, who was busy coolly adding porcupine quills to her boil-curing potion.

'Dunno,' Cornelia shrugged, completely unperturbed, in the maddening way only she could be. 'Guess he just likes you … maybe he heard about your Transfiguration yesterday.'

'Great!' Mia mumbled incoherently as Professor Slughorn ambled around the class fatuously and scrutinized everyone's Potions with a critical eye, stopping at two other students, including Alexannah, to assert that their potion was faultless. Alexannah seemed absolutely delighted at the fact that she was excellent at something.

After class, as Mia had been stuffing her parchment, potion- ingredients and inkwell into her bag, ignoring the fact that it was bursting to the seams, Slughorn had cornered her, clearing his throat vociferously to indicate his monumental presence. Mia looked up, unsurprised.

'Yes, Professor?' she queried evenly.

He studied her for another fraction of a second and then said in a low voice, fitting for a spy under a death threat, 'Is it true what you said about your parents?'

Mia was taken aback, but only momentarily; she steadied herself and replied in a somewhat steely voice, 'I guess if I yelled it aloud in the Great Hall; I has to be.' And without so much as a second glance, she walked out of the dungeons carrying with her an air of affronted dignity.

That however, had not been the last time he had squared her to ask her some discrete detail about her heritage. The next day, he had followed her all the way to the library and cornered her there. He was, it seemed, rather pleased with the brash manner in which she had answered him yesterday and he insisted he had only come to apologize if he had upset her in any way. He had continued to say that he was very thrilled with her prowess in Potions and was inviting her to "a little meeting of the elite" he called the Slug club. He had further told her that he had invited her dear friend "Miss Truman" as well.

Mia was decidedly baffled by his seemingly mad predilections and further more by the entirely ridiculous name he had chosen for his 'gang of the elite'. She had retorted back to him yesterday – it was the last thing she had been expecting preferential treatment for, even if she was brilliant at Potions. She had considered blatantly refusing his offer, but had decided against it, thinking it would be very uncouth. Consequently, she just maintained that she would attend if she could, but she wasn't making any promises. The Potions Professor was just about to add something persuasive, when, much to Mia's reprieve, Professor McGonagall had passed that way, her eyebrows raised, asking him if anything was amiss. Slughorn had hastily assured her that everything was fine and left, but not before shouting back, 'Monday, after class.'

Mia had watched sordidly as his bulging frame had disappeared into the shadows and sighed irately. She had glanced at Professor McGonagall and their emerald green eyes met for a fleeting second before Mia looked away.

'Slug club?' Professor McGonagall had asked her, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly.

'Yes,' Mia had replied, a bit surprised that McGonagall knew. Then, before she could stop herself, she had added, 'I really don't want to go, but he seems rather persistent.'

Professor McGonagall had said nothing, but continued to eye her interestedly. Mia wished people would stop doing that; it was beginning to get to her.

'What did you tell him?' she had asked the young first year finally.

'I told him that I'll come if I can, but I promised nothing,' Mia had responded irritably. 'He seems rather interested in me … won't stop asking me about who my parents are … but he treats other students like they're part of the wall … I mean, I know I should probably respect him since he is a teacher … but in all honesty, I have no intention of going on Monday.'

Suddenly, she had marvelled at the supreme courage her irritation had blown into her and had wondered whether, on ordinary occasions, she would have dared to say as much to her Head of House.

'Wise,' the older of the two had observed shortly, a trace of amusement lingering in her voice.

Mia had sighed again and bidden Professor McGonagall farewell as she sauntered musingly into the library.

Defence against Dark Arts was taught by Helio Chandler, a Professor with scraggly brown hair and a scarred face, who had about the memory of a goldfish and a most foreboding habit of thundering instructions out for the world to hear. The way he conducted class largely depended on his disposition; if he was in a foul temper, he would growl instructions menacingly and yell hysterically at even the most insignificant of mistakes; if he was in good humour, he was rather patient and awarded House points for the simplest of achievements; but if he was in a slightly unconventional mood, he would just ask them to use minor jinxes and hexes on each other, which usually landed half the class in the hospital wing. Everyone couldn't help but be intimidated by his presence.

Astronomy, up in the Astronomy tower, was taught by the beautiful Professor Celesta, a delicate blonde with startlingly grey eyes. It was taught every Wednesday night but since Astronomy required its learners to screw their eyes through telescopes and gaze at the stars and the nether planets, no one noticed her very much.

Professor Flitwick, who taught Charms and was the head of Ravenclaw as well, was a rather good teacher; patient, kind and willing to help anyone. But his peculiarly squeaky voice and miniscule size was the subject of scores of jokes and rumours among the students. Charms was, by far, Cornelia's worst subject; she only managed to keep up with the class by asking Mia to repeat and explain whatever Professor Flitwick had said, later on.

Professor McGonagall was the head of Gryffindor, Deputy Headmistress as well as Transfiguration teacher. Right since day one, she had earned herself a reputation of being rather stern, austere and reserved, nonetheless extremely fair and soon became infamous for giving vast amounts of homework, which was usually greeted by uptight groans from the students. But no one could deny that she was a brilliant teacher all the same. The second years and other older students considered her to be "a smashing teacher … though really strict" and "what we could only dream of after Professor Reed" giving the first years a distinct feeling that the preceding professor had been horrible. Cornelia and Mia both loved the subject (though Mia was well above the basics) whereas Alexannah gloomily insisted that Transfiguration was "just not her forte".

Hagrid had invited Mia over to his wooden cabin on the first weekend of the term; an invitation which Mia had generously accepted and looked forward to. On Saturday afternoon, Mia had found herself seated in the gamekeeper's company, sipping on a cup of tea though she politely declined his offer of rock cakes, which looked much to hard to be eaten by a normal person. They had spent the next hour chatting pleasantly about this and that and Mia had taken a liking to him at once; he was clearly not as vicious as he looked. Hagrid had liberally invited her to his hut anytime she wanted and she had promised she would bring Cornelia and Alexannah along the next time she visited.

Mia had developed a most queer tendency of doodling on the parchment as she took down notes in class and Alexannah who almost always borrowed her written observations, thus had full advantage of the extremely amusing and sometimes farcical caricatures. Her Transfiguration notes were littered with brilliantly accurate impressions of McGonagall's trademark bun; History of Magic with comical little goblins duelling with absurdly shaped swords; Herbology with a most entertaining compilation of Mia's self-invented plants, sometimes crosses between several common ones, like the 'daffytrapcumbers'– a droll creation which had borrowed aspects from the Venus Dragontrap, Cucumbers and Sprout's honking daffodils so that the end result looked something like a cucumber-horned gramophone. However, the most hilarious of this collection was definitely Mia's travesty of the unfortunate Slughorn, where she had drawn his head with the body of a particularly greedy slug or walrus, the upshot of which had Alexannah splitting her sides or hours.

Mia had, as she had previously decided, not attended the first Slug Club meeting for two reasons – first, she had not wanted to hurt Cornelia's feelings and second, because she wasn't looking forward to any VIP treatment anyway. Alexannah however, in spite of Mia's repeated coaxing, had attended the meeting and had loftily pronounced it as extremely enjoyable and pleasant – when Slughorn had not been droning epics on the many celebrated wizards he had had the pleasure of teaching. Mia, on the other hand, felt she was only saying this to make her envious.

Thus, the first two weeks following their arrival at Hogwarts had been rather uneventful with the possible exclusion of Mia's great Transfiguration feat on their second day there. The Gryffindors (and some of the more decent Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs) had apologized handsomely to her that evening for their unnecessary interrogation in the Great Hall but Mia had simply shrugged and said that it was only obvious that they should ask and that she should not have lost her temper like that at any rate.

However, the fact that a first year could actually do a spell that even NEWT level students found easier said than done, had spread throughout the school like wildfire, and much to Mia's annoyance, people kept whispering, staring and pointing at her shamelessly in the corridors between classes and some even had the pluck to as her if she could do it again, the result of which was that Mia rarely attended classes as herself anymore, disguising herself in the most ordinary possible manner in a desperate attempt to evade the brash gossip mongers.

Most of the teachers, especially Professor Slughorn, also seemed rather intrigued by this, with the exception of Professor McGonagall who was indifferent to the detail and treated all the students alike; Gryffindor or otherwise; skilled or not. Mia had the distinct impression that even if a student was her own son or daughter, she wouldn't have treated him or her any different.

On the other hand, her Transfiguration exploit, with the exception of the Slytherins, who detested Gryffindors on principle, had been solitarily despised by a resentful Rivers Phoenix, who seemed to be labouring under the opinion that every minute not spent glowering at Mia was a minute wasted. At the end of one DADA class, when Mia had, as was custom, been the first to jinx her opponent, Rivers had, in a fit of indignation, commenced on an extremely exaggerated tirade about how she thought that Mia was a pure-blood maniac, ignoring all of Cornelia's attempts to inject some common sense into the monologue. Finally bored stiff of the unfair accusations Rivers had foisted upon her; Mia had remarked with an indifferent air, 'If I was a pure-blood maniac, Phoenix, I'd hardly have a Muggle-born as my best friend.' Which had the obvious effect of the bespectacled Ravenclaw shutting up instantly, her dark face dour and brooding.

The consequence of these two highly unpleasant encounters with Rivers was that the two rarely crossed paths if they could help it, their hostility rivalling that between Mia and Umbridge, addressing each other only by their surnames when forced to deal with each other. Mia found all of Rivers' boisterous attempts to outdo her in class somewhat ridiculous albeit entertaining; she was making a positive nuisance of herself in all lessons much to the vexation of the professors who did not in the least seem amused by her ceaseless attempts to draw their attention in class. Comical absurdity reached its pinnacle when Rivers had almost choked purple during lunch hour, one day, trying to prove, in vain, to an uninterested crowd of Ravenclaws that she could do non-verbal spells, something that Mia had not yet attempted to master.

Flying lessons were scheduled the next day, Thursday, as was specified on the notice board in the Gryffindor common room, and much to the Gryffindors' dismay, they had flying lessons with the Slytherins.

'Great!' Alexannah mumbled dejectedly as Michael Alcott, a fellow first year, read the notice out aloud for public benefit. She slapped the table indignantly and scared the living daylights out of Cornelia, who, having just succeeding in levitating the feather, had been peacefully scribbling down Charms notes while humming a Muggle tune under her breath. 'Just what I wanted … flying in front of dear little Dolly Dolores Umbridge. As if being stuck with them in Transfiguration and Potions isn't enough.'

Cornelia put down her quill and giggled girlishly at Alexannah's ludicrous nickname for the nasty Slytherin.

'Still,' Mia said brightly, casually flinging aside the book she had been reading to join in their chinwag. 'You can't have everything in life … ever been on a broom before?'

'Yeah, couple of times,' Alexannah responded unenthusiastically, slumping in her chair. 'Alexandra plays Quidditch for Beauxbatons … and Dad used to play too, so I guess I used to … tag along.'

'Cornelia?'

'Of course, not,' Cornelia replied archly, as though Mia was being perfectly ridiculous. 'You expect me to zoom around the Muggle countryside on a broom? But Christopher plays really well … he's Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.'

'Oi, Mia! Heyy, Cornelia … Alex, why so glum?' Charlie Whitman's jovial voice cut through their less-than-cheerful tête-à-tête. He ran his hand carelessly through his wavy, brown hair to keep it off his face and walked up to them, sitting down on the couch next to Mia's. The second year had struck up an aberrantly great friendship with Mia and subsequently, with her two best friends.

'Flying lessons with Slytherins,' Alexannah stated gloomily, scrunching a piece of blank parchment aggressively to vent out her dismalness over the news. 'And I was so looking forward to flying!'

Charlie shook his head and his silky hair flopped back onto his face again. He shoved it back indifferently, looking amused. 'Gryffindors are usually paired with Slytherins for flying lessons … don't ask me why. But, trust me, it's not that bad … Madam Hooch can handle them.'

'It's not the Slytherins that are bothering her, it's Umbridge,' Mia said, grinning at Alexannah's fallen face. 'Anyways-,' she added, swivelling the chair suddenly to face him, '-what's a Chaser … I remember reading about it somewhere, but I can't exactly recollect.'

'Chaser?' Charlie asked her disbelievingly, as though she was trying to be funny. He sat upright and clasped his hands in a characteristic gesture. 'You're telling me _you_ don't know?'

'Uh uh,' Mia replied, shaking her head, a bit amused by his reception. 'I've read about it before though …'

'Well, Chasers are Quidditch player,' Charlie explained patiently, having eyed her dubiously for a minute or so, just to ensure she wasn't pulling his leg. 'The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try to score by passing the Quaffle through the opponent team's hoops.'

'Quaffle? Hoops?' Mia repeated blankly, blinking in confusion. 'I am not exactly familiar with Quidditch terms, you know.'

'No kidding,' Alexannah said cheerily, her gloom over the flying lessons forgotten. 'And here I was, I thinking you knew everything.'

Mia made a face and punched Alexannah in the shoulder good-naturedly. 'Nah, I really don't know … I am kind of looking forward to flying, though. Now, could someone please explain?'

Charlie and Alexannah obligingly spent the next half an hour explaining to Mia the rules of Quidditch, it's players, balls, scoring, Quidditch at Hogwarts and Quidditch fervour in England – both of them were seemingly aficionados of the game - while Mia listened intently, an eyebrow arched and a lock of auburn hair dangling over her inquisitive face, asking a few questions here and there. Charlie had even consented to draw a rough sketch of the Quidditch field and the players, which, as Mia had taken the trouble to point out after his long-suffering explanation, looked oddly like a bunch of lollipops.

'Well, that's about it,' Charlie said, when they had finally stopped laughing over Mia's jibe about the sketch. He lifted his hand to cover his mouth as he yawned. 'I'm going to try for Chaser this year … hope I make it,' he added wistfully.

'Why didn't you try last year?' Mia queried as he sat up and stretched unabashedly.

'First years aren't allowed in the house teams,' he replied, looking around to find the common room deserted except for the three of them. The dying embers crackled feebly, then, the flame extinguished itself and left the room pitch black, bringing hopes of further midnight discussions to an abrupt end. 'And now' – he yawned again – 'I think we ought to get some sleep.'

Mia shrugged in concord, seeing no point in staying up in an unlit common room. Charlie sauntered off towards the boys' dormitory waving them a cheery goodnight while they headed off to the girls'.

--

The cool morning breeze greeted the Gryffindors as they made their way out of the Entrance Hall for their flying lessons the following day. It was sunny and bright outside and the beads of dew on the lush, green grass glistened like thousands of miniscule diamonds in the sunshine. By the time the Gryffindors had reached the pitch, twenty broomsticks were already there as were the Slytherins, looking annoyingly smug as usual, though some were eyeing their broomsticks in mild apprehension. Alexannah fidgeted nervously with her thumbs and stared blankly into the open sky and the blazing sun above.

'Lovely day, isn't it?' Mia commented optimistically, trying to get both Alexannah and Cornelia's minds off flying.

'Umm.'

'Come on,' she persisted, trying to catch Alexannah's eye. 'You're not worried, are you?'

'Umm.'

'Oh, just stop umm-ing for heaven's sake,' Mia snapped finally, exasperated by her vexing behaviour. 'Why are you so worried? You've already been on a broom before … and besides, it's not like it's important how well you fly.'

Alexannah shot Mia an anxious glance and was about to open her mouth to say something when Madam Hooch, their flying instructor, burst into the pitch. A wiry woman, she had short, black hair and fierce, yellowish eyes reminiscent of a hawk.

'Well, what are you waiting for?' she barked stridently at the anticipating throng of first-years. 'Get beside a broomstick, everyone.'

There was a general shuffling and scuffling as the Gryffindors and Slytherins hastened to obey and stood beside a broomstick each.

'Now,' Madam Hooch ordered commandingly, once the shuffling had died down. Everyone looked up at her expectantly. 'Stick your hand above the broomstick and say 'UP'!'

Mia eyed her broomstick in trepidation for a minute; then, she stuck her hand to her right and said in a loud, clear voice, 'UP!'

The broomstick rose immediately upward and Mia caught it in her hand tightly, contented; looking around, she realised that hers was one of the few that had. The only other person standing with a broomstick in her hand was a tall, scrawny Slytherin girl with jet-black hair whom Mia instantly recognized from the Sorting as Eileen Prince. The girl stared at Mia for a minute and then unexpectedly, half-smiled. Mia returned the smile and then, turned to see how the other Gryffindors were progressing; Cornelia' s broomstick simply rolled on the ground when she yelled 'UP!', Alexannah's rose halfway into mid-air and then fell back, as though it had changed it's mind and Russell Pritchard, a fellow Gryffindor, wasn't any more successful; he was trying to lift the broomstick with his hands each time Madam Hooch was out of sight. The Slytherins were, if not worse, no better. Umbridge, Mia was delighted to see, had hardly been able to make her broom budge at all.

'UP!' Alexannah yelled defiantly, stamping her foot down in frustration and the broomstick zoomed into her grasp at long last; she turned, caught Mia's eye and heaved a sigh of obvious relief.

Ten minutes later, when almost everyone, or at least a majority, had managed to persuade their rather reluctant broomsticks to get off the ground (Russell and Dolores were still struggling), Madam Hooch issued fresh directions. She asked them to mount their brooms, demonstrating knowingly how it was to be done on her own broom first (which looked to Mia as though it belonged to the Stone Age) and then walked around brashly pointing out everyone's mistakes and correcting them.

'When I blow the whistle,' she ordered the half-hesitant, half-elated crowd of first years, 'you will kick off the ground, and keeping your broom steady, rise a few feet – I REPEAT – just a few feet - and then come back down, understand?'

Mia nodded at no one in particular, taking a deep breath at the same time. The whistle was blown and the next half an hour for her was sheer ecstasy.

--

'That,' Mia breathed, shutting her eyes, her cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of fuchsia, that Umbridge, with all her 'pinkness' would have died for, 'was, by far, the best class we've had so far at Hogwarts.' She opened her eyes; they were positively twinkling with delight as she smiled broadly.

'Totally,' Alexannah agreed, cocking her head to one side and then, she laughed in derisive amusement. 'This is the first time I've seen you so excited,' she said mockingly.

'What do you expect?' Mia replied, still smiling dreamily. 'I mean, that was pure, sheer magic. It was like freedom you've never experienced … a rush of fierce elation … it was incredible!'

'Someone's becoming poetic,' Alexannah commented roguishly, earning herself a friendly punch in the arm from Mia. 'Just be glad Madam Hooch didn't catch you skimming the ground, or you would have had it for sure.'

Mia shrugged, unflustered and responded in her usual calm voice, 'I would've liked to go higher too … but she would've caught me for sure then … bet, it'd be cool.'

Alexannah raised an eyebrow tentatively. 'You should try for the Gryffindor Quidditch team next year … if that was your first time on a broom, it was very impressive, what say, Cornelia?'

'It was … umm, it was okay,' the brunette replied quietly, averting their excited gazes.

'Don't lie,' Mia, who was hardly fooled by appearances, rebutted immediately, rolling her eyes. 'You didn't enjoy that one bit, did you?'

'No,' she confessed, staring fixedly at the grassy floor. 'I suppose not. I think I prefer my feet on the ground, thank you.'

'Doesn't matter,' Alexannah said reassuringly, putting her arm across a dejected Cornelia's shoulders. 'I guess flying suits some, but doesn't appeal to the rest.'

'Hmm, in any case,' Mia added, her eyes knitted as she suddenly broke into a run and beckoned Alexannah and Cornelia to do the same. 'We're late for class. Very late.'

'Merlin!' Alexannah gasped, sprinting behind her and breathing heavily. 'And we have Transfiguration next.'

'McGonagall is so not going to be pleased,' Cornelia mumbled grimly, as she scurried forward to catch up with her panting friends.

--

As November arrived, the weather turned miserably cold and the temperature in the castle had dropped so low that quite a few students wore thick, protective gloves made of dragon skin to protect their exposed hands from the frosty air. The mountains around Hogwarts had turned a foreboding, icy shade of grey and the lake was chilled solid. Hogwarts had become more of a home to the first years than ever, as classes went on, detentions were handed out to the pranksters and house points awarded and taken.

Steaming morning breakfasts had never been more welcome, though were frequently punctuated by heart-wrenching news in the _Daily Prophet _which was, almost every day littered with gory details and minutiae of horrific Dark murders and Demetor attacks. The reports were often received by agonized shrieks from the readers and it was not uncommon to witness students dissolving into tears in the Great Hall because someone amongst their close kith and kin had been victimized as the result of the latest round of Dark attacks. Mia, almost always, found herself a helpless onlooker to their ineffable anguish, as Dumbledore and their respective Head of House would attempt to console their devastated charges with pointless and almost always unheard words of comfort.

October had drawn to a close amidst raging winds, unrelenting rains and the largely unsolicited, gruesome news. Halloween had come and gone and the Great Hall had been spectacularly decorated on the occasion. Thousands of live bats fluttered from the walls and ceilings while no less than that swooped over the House tables, making the candles in the creepy-looking pumpkins stutter precariously. The feast had been laid on golden plates and the food had been predictably delicious and appetizing with a variety of new dishes served. Mia had, as promised, introduced Cornelia and Alexannah to Hagrid and the trio had visited his small, wooden cabin, at least thrice by the end of the month, so that they soon became regular visitors at his log cabin.

Slughorn had cornered Mia days after she had skived off his Slug Club meeting and had treated her to a very long, unpleasant, fifteen-minute sermon about how congenial the gathering had been and how much (here he had scooped up a smug Alexannah, seemingly out of thin air) Miss Truman had enjoyed herself. Then, he had cordially, much to Mia's annoyance, extended his invitation for a next Slug Club meeting before ambling off towards the staff table.

And as October faded, November brought up a much-anticipated event which everyone, especially Muggle-born first years had been looking forward to – the Quidditch season had finally begun.

Charlie had, much to his delight, made it to the team; he had arrived dancing into the common room one evening, startling Mia to no end by his atypical display of giddy happiness.

'Charlie, are you … okay?' Mia asked him hesitantly, an eyebrow raised, seriously concerned for his sanity as he continued to jig cheerfully in the common room, attracting curious stares from the fellow Gryffindors who were glad for the two-minute respite from the drudgery of pending homework.

'I made it! I made it to the team!' he declared happily and she rolled her eyes, returning to her Potions essay, though not before yelling out a truly genuine congratulations.

Ryan Reynolds, his best friend was the only other second-year to have made it to the team, though as a Beater. Charlie flew with miraculous ease and his aim at the hoops were usually made with great precision. Surprisingly though, the Gryffindors were not at all looking forward to their first match against Hufflepuff.

'We're gonna lose,' Christopher Hale mumbled despondently, at breakfast, two days before the match; his scruffy brown hair obstructing the solemn expression on his face as he sipped on his flagon of pumpkin juice. 'I just know it.'

'Why so pessimistic?' Mia asked curiously, craning her neck across a groggy Cindy Miller's shoulder to look at him. 'If you ask me, you've by far got the best Chasers, Beaters and Keeper.' She had become an ardent Quidditch enthusiast, usually watched the Gryffindor team practicing whenever she could spare the time and was on good terms with almost everyone in the team. Having seen some truly spectacular Quidditch practices, she was very sanguine about Gryffindors' chances of winning.

'You're probably right,' Ryan Reynolds, Charlie's best friend and Beater on the team admitted grudgingly. 'But,' he added to Mia in an undertone, shooting oddly furtive glances around him, 'we've got a pathetic Seeker.'

Mia grimaced inwardly and shot Ryan an apologetic glance. Eliza Arden just happened to be the worst Seeker she had ever seen. Her flying was nauseatingly bad and she was about as blind as a bat. By what she had heard, Seekers were the most important players on the team, so having an awful Seeker usually meant defeat for the players. And to top it all, Eliza Arden was Captain of the team.

'How can someone so pathetically bad even make it to the team, forget about being Captain?' Mia hissed in frustration at no one in particular.

Riley Reynolds, Ryan's very pretty older sister and fellow Beater laughed harshly. Twirling her flaxen hair absently, she replied archly, 'Mia, ever heard of family preference? She's Reed's niece … that's how … deplorable, isn't it?'

'I so totally agree, Riles,' Chelsea Bennett, Keeper for Gryffindor muttered dejectedly, leaning forward to face Mia. 'At least, we got rid of Reed …'

'Rid of Reed!' Ryan chortled, fleetingly disregarding Quidditch dilemmas as turned to a sombre Charlie. 'That would make a superb pun, what say, Charl-O?'

'Why don't you just tell McGonagall?' Alexannah suggested fervently, ignoring Ryan and reverting the discussion back to a review of possibilities. 'She'll throw her off the team at once! You know she will, she's all for fairness!'

'We did,' Charlie said, sighing deeply and glowering at his untouched mash with a severity that implied that each individual potato had been responsible for Eliza's undeserved appointment as Seeker. 'But she can't do that for two reasons – one, because traditionally, Quidditch Captains remain captains until the end of their seventh year and second, because we only told her last week and she can't go around hunting for a new Seeker a week before the match. If we would've told her earlier, perhaps…' He shot an ugly look at Adrian, who also played Chaser.

'What're looking at me for?' Adrian demanded angrily. 'It's not my fault that stink-bag of a Reed put her niece on the team. Don't know how such goofballs landed in Gryffindor in the first place. The Sorting Hat's made some serious misjudgements.' He slammed his empty goblet violently on the table, ignoring the gaping dent on the table.

'Relax,' Christopher murmured to a very irritable Adrian, without any real conviction as he swished his wand to mend the dented desk. 'You don't have to vent out your anger on "the Seeker" by yelling at each other, you know.'

'Yeah,' Mia approved quietly, emptying the last dregs of her pumpkins juice with distaste. 'Guess you'll just be stuck with her for the rest of the year…'

'Good guess,' Riley said dryly, looking disconsolate as the first bell of the day rang, signalling the end of breakfast and the beginning of another dreaded weekday.

--

The day of the Quidditch match dawned breezy and clear. The week before had been crammed with a good deal of scoffing and jeering between the houses and an unusual air of antagonism had settled like a thick mist between the generally friendly Hufflepuffs and the Gryffindors, all thanks to the oncoming match, though a knowledgeable Christopher lightly insisted that it was nothing compared to the heckling and catcalling that took place at the onset of Gryffindor vs. Slytherin matches. Feelings of 'house patriotism' as Ryan so cheekily put it, were running high and judging by the sudden stony silences between Professors McGonagall and Kettleburn, Mia silently wondered if her normally unpartisan Transfiguration professor and Head of House actually cared a lot whether or not Gryffindor won the oncoming match.

Back to today, the sun shone vibrantly on the stands as the ear-splitting cheers of the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors filled the air; Gryffindor alight with scarlet and golden posters, scarves and rosettes and Hufflepuff with yellow and black. Cindy Miller's life-like painting of the Gryffindor lion stood out prominently against the sea of scarlet and gold and the cheering and excited squeals grew louder second by second until Roxanne Stanton, a Ravenclaw fifth-year began pulled over the enchanted megaphone and commentating in her loud, lilting voice.

'AND WELCOME TO THE FIRST QUIDDITCH MATCH OF THE SEASON – GRYFFINDOR vs. HUFFLEPUFF!' her cheery voice boomed across the stands as the audience erupted into a roar of applause and cheering.

'And the players are out – Madam Hooch is issuing last minute instructions – Captains Eliza Arden and Martin Tubbs are shaking hands – the whistle is blown – Quaffle is released and –THEY'RE OFF!'

'Wow! This is amazing!' Cornelia squealed shrilly to Mia, who had only just arrived, having gone to wish the team good luck and reassure a very edgy Charlie before the game. She stuck her head between the shrieking crowd as the players zoomed across the pitch, scarlet and yellow blurs; Hagrid was waving breezily at them from the teachers stand; Cornelia waved back but Mia and Alexannah with eyes only for the maroon Quaffle and golden, winged Snitch.

'And Gryffindor in possession of the Quaffle – newcomer Whitman passes to Adrian Anderson – Anderson to Christopher Hale – Hale back to Whitman and – OUCH! – Whitman narrowly misses a Bludger by Hufflepuff Beater Sarah Lance – AND WHITMAN OF GRYFFINDOR SCORES!'

'YES!!' Mia, Cornelia and Alexannah chorused zealously, punching their fists into the air along with their fellow housemates. 'GO CHARLIE!'

'Game resumes – Snitch still nowhere in sight - Quaffle back with Gryffindor again – this time with Anderson – ducks a Bludger – passes to Hale – Hale to Whitman – Whitman passes back to Hale and – HE SCORES – ONCE MORE FOR GRYFFINDOR!!'

'Yeah! Gryffindor rules!' Alexannah cried happily, pulling out her scarf and waving it patriotically as Mia and Cornelia exchanged delighted high fives.

'Now Hufflepuff in possession of Quaffle – Jessica Kane to Wayne Crawford and back and – HUFFLEPUFF – NO! – An excellent block by Gryffindor Keeper Chelsea Bennett and the game continues…'

'Close shave,' Cornelia murmured as Mia squinted fervently around the pitch for any sign of the Snitch. Eliza was idly circling the grounds, hardly making an effort to look for the tiny, winged ball that could surely bring them the much-wanted victory.

'Quaffle once more with Gryffindor Chaser Hale – passes to Anderson – AND HE SCORES – WHAT A SHOT – Gryffindor's Chasers are miraculous! Whitman is most certainly a brilliant find!'

The Gryffindors' roars in reception to Roxanne's comments were almost deafening.

'And, once more, Hufflepuff in possession – Crawford passes to Jonathan Archer who passes to Kane and back to Archer and looks like he's going to score… OUCH! … Archer takes a Bludger to the head by triumphant Gryffindor beater Riley Reynolds – looks painful - and the Quaffle is back with Gryffindor…'

The game continued for a elongated period in a analogous manner; Gryffindor taking admirable shots, one after another, missing a few when the Quaffle was sent flying back to them by the frantic Hufflepuff Keeper. The Chasers narrowly avoided Bludgers aimed at them by the frenetic Hufflepuff Beaters and Ryan and Riley did their level best to keep the Bludgers from injuring their teammates. Chelsea made exceptional saves till the score was 180 – 20 and the Snitch was no where in sight, when –

'Alex, it's the Snitch!' Mia hissed vehemently, dragging Alexannah and Cornelia and discreetly pointing to the fluttering, golden ball somewhere near the foot of Hufflepuffs' hoops.

'By Jove, so it is!' Cornelia breathed hypnotically, looking up at the whizzing players to see if anyone else had spotted it yet.

'No one else has seen it yet,' Alexannah muttered in a low voice, her eyes fixedly trailing the movements of the tiny Snitch. 'I've been searching for ages, how did you find it?'

'Dunno,' Mia shrugged noncommittally as the Snitch flitted by an unwary Wayne's ankles. 'I thought I spotted it once before near Ryan, but then I thought I was imagining things.'

'Mia, Alex, look!' Cornelia squealed feverishly, shoving them to the left in a frenzied passion. 'I think Rhonda's seen it!'

Roxanne's anxious voice confirmed Cornelia's assertions as she cried in breathless anticipation, '-AND HUFFLEPUFF SEEKER RHONDA KEYNES DIVES – LOOKS LIKE THE SNITCH HAS BEEN SPOTTED – SHE'S GOT IT – SHE'S GOT IT – SHE'S – YES! – HUFFLEPUFF GETS THE SNITCH – BUT GRYFFINDOR STILL WINS THANKS TO THE SPECTACULAR CHASERS!! FINAL SCORE – HUNDRED AND EIGHTY TO HUNDRED AND SIXTY; GRYFFINDOR WINS!!'

'WE WON!' Alexannah shrieked raucously, hugging Cindy and Cornelia at the same time, so tightly that they both turned at nasty shade of sea green before Mia, who was still giddy with happiness, forced her to release them. The Gryffindors were either cheering or applauding or prancing around in mad delight; Charlie, Adrian and Christopher were exchanging high fives on the pitch, Riley and Ryan were doing loop-the-loops unabashedly until Ryan landed down and hugged an euphoric Charlie, Chelsea was skimming the ground jubilantly, her jet black hair flapping madly behind her, yelling happily and Eliza was shaking hands with a dejected looking Martin again. Professor Kettleburn was shaking a thrilled Professor McGonagall's hand (she did not look half as intimidating as she usually did, Mia noted, grinning) quite genuinely and was praising the Gryffindors' splendid performance while Professor Slughorn was staring wide-eyed at the pitch, as students swarmed to congratulate the players.

'You were brilliant!' Mia exclaimed, as Charlie hugged her as well in delight, almost swooping her off her feet and then, released her suddenly as he realised how awkward it was, grinning abashedly. Christopher walked over, positively beaming and whistling a merry tune. He ruffled his younger sister's hair gleefully.

'Guess we were!' Charlie replied, flushed with pride, excitement and happiness, as Mia congratulated the rest of the ecstatic Gryffindor team, other than Eliza, who had gathered around her to see what she had to say about their more-than-well-played match.

'Mind blowing!' Alexannah pronounced, her arm around Mia's shoulder as she looked up in amazement. 'That was _some_ game you guys played! Great saves, Chels!'

'Gee, thanks, Alex,' Chelsea replied diffidently, laughing as she pulled back her wind-blown hair into a neater ponytail.

'Uh-huh,' Adrian nodded in merry agreement, clapping his hand on Charlie's back playfully. 'You were great, Charles, did I mention?'

'Don't call me Charles, it's Charlie … and yeah, maybe only a hundred times,' Charlie returned, rolling his eyes modestly, though Mia could tell he was rather pleased with Adrian's commendation.

'You know, that's all nice and dandy, but it would still do well if Eliza was a better player,' Christopher muttered tensely in a hoarse undertone. The mood changed suddenly from jubilance to an air suited for military officers discussing war strategy.

'You're right …' Ryan, who had only just arrived from god-knows-where, approved, frowning slightly.

'Of course, he is,' Riley pronounced in her customary regal style. Chelsea shrugged in agreement. 'I mean, if Rhonda had caught the Snitch earlier … it was only luck … we wouldn't have stood a chance, then …'

'PARTY IN THE COMMON ROOM!' A delighted Russell Pritchard stuck his head from amidst the cheering throng of Gryffindors and yelled out loudly, interrupting their uptight discussion. 'COME ON … YOU GUYS ARE SERIOUSLY WANTED THERE …'

'Oh, hell, we've just won a match,' Alexannah asserted matter-of-factly, straightening her blonde hair. 'We ought to be celebrating … you can worry about Quidditch tactics before the next match, can't you, Riles?'

'You said it, Alex … couldn't agree more,' Ryan said cheerily, dragging his heatedly protesting sister and an irate Chelsea Bennett along with him as he joined the crowd of brightly clad students. 'C'mon, Charl-O, Mia, Cornelia … let's party!'

'Yeah, come on,' Adrian agreed, shaking his head good-humouredly at Ryan's oh-so-Ryanish behaviour, beckoning the rest of them to follow the enthralled second year's lead. 'He's right … we'll save it for the next match … shall we?'

**A/N: **'Lo again! If you like this, please, please, please drop in a line with your view … love you if you do … love you more if you leave in more than one line ….

Thanks!


	14. Chapter 14 The essense of childhood

**Author's Notes –** I'm back!! I swear I'll update faster now, atleast the next chapter will be up soon … and can you believe it's been almost an year since I've been on this site? Yay! Sigh, this chapter is for tabbyhearts aka musicgoddess681 for cheering me up with so many reviews *huggles*. Guys, I am now on the ADMM boards under the name tabbyphoenix, and I'm having the time of my life there! Any LJ users out here, you can friend me if you want, I'm anya_lee there!

This is for tabbyhearts, for reminding me that I used to write…lol.

Well, enjoy.

**Disclaimers** – Not mine. That's all I'm saying.

**Chapter 14 – The Essence of Childhood**

December came soon after the indelible Quidditch victory of the Gryffindor and one morning Hogwarts woke up to find its' surroundings in monotones of black and white. The lake had frozen solid and even Hagrid could be seen walking around in a moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur and beaver skin boots looking something like the European version of the Abominable Snowman dressed in brown instead; thanks to his enormous bulk.

A week before the Christmas holidays were due to begin, classes were more enjoyable than ever, since most of the teachers allowed them to do whatever they wished to in class, with the exception of Professors Binns and McGonagall; but even McGonagall caught the Christmas spirit two days ahead of the vacation when she too decided not to burden them with any assignments over the hols. No one could quite believe their ears and when she did finally manage to convince them that she wasn't joking, the entire class erupted into a loud cheer and Professor McGonagall smiled (well, almost) at their delighted reception.

At about the same time, she had also come around the Gryffindor common room, making a list of the students who were staying over for the holidays. Mia had given her name at once, convinced that Christmas at Hogwarts would be fun (not that she had much choice) and so had Cornelia; though Christopher was going back home for Christmas. Alexannah had been planning to go to France to visit her elder sister, but then her mother had been called to some godforsaken part of the world for medical assistance and so she had to put her name down on McGonagall's list as well, though this was quite grudgingly done.

On the last day of the winter term, Mia, Cornelia and Alexannah accidentally sauntered into to Great Hall after a highly boring History of Magic class and the sight before them left them gawking stupid; it was something neither of them had imagined in their wildest dreams.

The Hall looked glorious, bypassing even the splendid Halloween decorations of October. Festoons of holly and mistletoe adorned the snow covered walls; twelve towering Christmas trees were positioned around the room, presumably by Hagrid and each tree was fabulously decorated, some with tiny, sparkly, realistic-looking icicles, some decorated with blazing candles, some with golden and silver Christmas baubles, others tiny angels and what not. Apparently, this was not all; as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick still looked busy with the beautification; Professor McGonagall trailing more golden and silver baubles across each tree and Professor Flitwick doing tricky charms so that the baubles flashed different colours at regular intervals.

'You would do well to stop staring,' McGonagall called out, having observed the trio staring at the decoration motionless for at least a quarter of an hour.

'It's wonderful,' Mia said softly, her hands absently brushing against the branches of the one of the dozen gigantic trees, her eyes dancing with unstated fervour. 'Spectacular!'

'Yeah,' Cornelia agreed nodding her head in concord as Alexannah continued to stare, dumbstruck.

'Indeed, thank you,' Professor McGonagall replied, eyeing them with a merest trace of amusement. 'I believe you all are staying for Christmas?'

'Yes, Professor,' Mia answered briefly, far too engrossed with the spectacle to answer her question properly.

'Good,' Professor McGonagall replied, flicking her wand at a petite, golden haired snow angel, so it twirled gracefully across the tree, humming a Christmas hymn liltingly as it did so. 'Then, you can always admire the Hall when it's done.'

------------------------------------------------------------------

The first half of the winter holidays passed enjoyably so and Christmas Eve had finally arrived, much to everyone's delight. Mia had discovered that a very few students were staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. The three of them were, of course, as was Charlie and a surly sixth-year, two Hufflepuffs, three Ravenclaws and three Slytherins including, unpredictably, a very miserable Dolores too, who had been bantering Mia all week about not having a proper family to go back to for Christmas.

On Christmas Eve, Mia spent a happy morning in the Hogwarts library, pouring through dozens and dozens of books that might interest her and keep her entertained for the latter half of the vacation and finally ended up borrowing the thickest of them all. On her way back to the dorm, she was so immersed in reading the book, that she hardly paid any attention to where she was going, absently knocking down a blissfully snogging Hufflepuff couple, upsetting a tearful Maurice Hanson's potion ingredients and finally running head-first into a pensive Professor Dumbledore himself.

'Oh! P-pr-professor Dumbledore, I'm terribly sorry,' she stuttered, a fantastic shade of red flying to her cheeks in embarrassment as she finally attempted to stuff the fat book in her already-filled bag. 'I sort of –'

'It's quite alright, you need not apologize,' Professor Dumbledore replied serenely, peering at her out of his intensely blue eyes, down his long, crooked nose. 'Isn't that a rather thick book you're reading, Miss Bridger, considering it's Christmas Eve?'

'Well, I was sort of bored,' Mia conceded, smiling awkwardly as she pulled out her wand and flicked it at the bag to clear more room for the gigantic paperback.

Professor Dumbledore was, however not listening to her; instead he pulled out something, seemingly from mid-air and offered it to her genially. 'Care for a Sugar Quill?'

'Yeah, sure, thanks,' Mia said, befuddled for a second but nevertheless accepting it with a toothy grin. 'I just happen to love sweets…' she added as Dumbledore conjured one more, presumably, for himself.

'Ah, well so do I,' he said pleasantly and Mia vaguely thought she saw something of a happy smirk flit across his face, however it vanished as soon as it had come, and he raised the quill as though toasting it to her. 'Though some people may not agree …' he murmured and then declared jovially,' Cheers for sweet-lovers!'

'Cheers … well, I've got to run,' she continued, still grinning broadly, '… I promised Alexannah I'd play chess with her … but I'm terrible at it, so I expect she'll win anyway. I'm sure she wants to gloat about it … she knows I'm pathetic … oh, and thanks for the quill, Professor!'

Dumbledore nodded amicably in reply and watched as Mia sped down the passageway, her long auburn hair whipping behind her as she disappeared into the shadows.

------------------------------------------------------------------

After lunch, the Gryffindors returned back to the common rooms, fed up, having run out of things to do. Charlie and Cornelia were staring jadedly at the falling snow from their perch by the windowsill. Mia was curled up into one of the armchairs, still lost in the ancient writing on the parchment in the book she had borrowed earlier that morning. Alexannah eyed her disdainfully and then, snatched the book out of her hands.

'Give it back!' Mia yelled crossly, tossing a long lock of her auburn hair behind her ear even though she knew perfectly well that it would slither back into her face in about three seconds.

'Aw, Mia, for heaven's sakes! It's Christmas Eve!' Alexannah chided, shoving the book behind her back. 'I can think of a hundred things I'd rather be doing today than reading some prehistoric fairy tale. That too in Runes … hey, wait, when did you learn to read Runes…'

'Prunes?' Cornelia quipped suddenly, sounding utterly befuddled as she turned to them. 'Who reads prunes?'

'Really? Like what?' Mia snapped irately, ignoring Cornelia's slight on prunes as she tried to reach out for the book impatiently. 'Sitting on the couch and burning your retinas by staring at the fire?'

Alexannah flushed at the sharp retort, albeit she did not let her discomfiture show. Instead, she returned evenly, 'Why don't you think of something, then, Wise Girl?'

Mia shot her an fierce I-take-the-challenge sort of a look and slipped back into the couch, shutting her eyes tightly. After a minute or so of unspoken contemplation, her eyes flew open and she jumped out of the couch, startling the dull Gryffindors out of their skins.

'Sorry!' she apologized, smirking viciously at Alexannah. 'I just had a brilliant idea! I'll be right back … don't vanish!'

'We're waiting,' Alexannah said in a bored voice, idly scratching the back of her neck as Mia scampered out of sight, slamming a disgruntled Fat Lady behind her.

'This can't be anything good,' Cornelia muttered sniffily, glaring at a smug Alexannah.

'Nah,' Charlie agreed, leaning snugly against the comfy armchair. 'But she's got mighty good ideas … and anything's better than sitting on this infernal chair doing nothing.'

Sure enough, five minutes later Mia arrived, panting heavily as she slid by the hearth, green eyes alight with mischief as she warmed her hands that had turned a nasty shade of blue from the bitter cold, a clear give-away of her destination.

'Okay,' she called out loudly to a crowd of three Gryffindors, who turned to face her at once with rapt attention. 'The Slytherins are out on the grounds.'

Cornelia couldn't, for the world of her, see how this had anything with what they were about to do, but Alexannah and Charlie seemed to have grasped Mia's impish intent at once.

'Oh, no you don't!' Alexannah whispered, looking taken aback as Mia's face split into a wider grin. 'We'll be in serious trouble!'

'C'mon, Alex, be a sport … good one, Mia, let's do it,' Charlie cried enthusiastically, standing up at once and staring at Mia with something close to admiration. 'Ryan would have given his left foot to be here,' he chortled, clapping Mia on the back in evident praise.

'That's two, yes and one, no,' Mia pronounced, the unaffected grin still plastered on her bright face and Alexannah crossed her arms in indignant protest. 'Cornelia?'

'Do what?' Cornelia asked, frowning in puzzlement as Alexannah stared at her, her azure eyes affixed pleadingly on Cornelia's frame, as though beseeching her not to go on with what Mia had in mind.

Mia smiled mischievously and caught Cornelia's arm, as Charlie hauled an indisposed Alexannah out of the armchair and towards the portrait hole. 'Oh, you'll see.'

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'We are so dead if we're caught,' Alexannah hissed morbidly, pulling her long, bluish cloak more securely over her freezing body as she tightened her grip around the thick bark of the tree. 'I can't believe you of all people would think of something like this, Mia!'

'Hush, Alex,' Mia muttered irately, clapping her hands tightly over a squawking Alexannah's mouth. 'We'll only get caught if you keep talking like this.'

'Um, Mia,' Cornelia called out feebly from behind her, pawing her with an impatient hand from behind. 'What exactly are we doing?'

Mia, Alexannah and Cornelia were standing behind a large beech tree on the shore of the frigid lake, a huge heap of snow obscuring their cloak-clad selves and a bunch of burly-looking Slytherins, Dolores included, a stone's throw away from them.

'Charlie, come on,' Mia muttered fervently, as Cornelia tugged impatiently on the hem of her snow-covered cloak. 'It's about time!'

She inclined her head over Alexannah's shoulders and glanced at the Slytherins, finally spotting Charlie's trademark silky brown hair, heading towards the unfortunate Slytherins.

'Get ready,' she whispered to a mortified Alexannah and a still-befuddled Cornelia.

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Charlie Whitman dug his frostbitten hands into the pockets of his robes, whistling a hymn as piercingly as he could manage, his throat frozen stiff due to the iciness of the afternoon. Spotting the Slytherins immersed in a deep discussion on topics best know to themselves less than a few feet away, he "accidentally" sauntered towards them and ran straight into a mousy-brown haired, squat girl - Dolores Jane Umbridge.

'Oops, dreadfully sorry,' Charlie greeted fake-pleasantly, strident enough for Mia and the others to hear at their perch behind the heap of freshly and laboriously gathered snow. Mia waved him a visible hand to confirm her illicit presence and disappeared into the white again.

'Ah, Whitman, Chaser from Gryffindor, I believe,' Dolores simpered, her voice fluttery as she adjusted the revoltingly pink bow right on top of her curls, which had been knocked off during their supposedly unintentional collision. Charlie smirked inwardly as he thought about what Mia would have to say on her "cutsie-pink" bow.

'You believe?' Charlie questioned her with a authentic imitation of perplexity. 'Of course, I'm Whitman form Gryffindor!'

The boy stole a brief, succinct glance at Umbridge's companions; two hefty, dour fifth-year goons, who seemed preoccupied flexing their well-built muscles, a sure sign of warning to a wary Charlie. He recognized them instantly as the Frye twins, the twosome who had been following Umbridge all over the place like Mary and her little lambs, except that they were neither as meek nor as docile as the biblical ones. A pungent odour of sweat seemed to drift in the vicinity as they moved even closer to a toadish Umbridge. They looked capable of pounding out his individual organs; Charlie did not doubt this for a second, but he had too much respect for Mia's remarkable hexing ability not to do as she had told him to. Should any harm befall on him, he assured himself puckishly, the Frye twins should not live to tell the tale, once Mia had been through with them.

All these thoughts passed in his mind in a mere two seconds, before he added in a fantabulous albeit louder reproduction of Dolores own honeyed simper, 'And you must be the pink toad Umbridge, as Mia tells me.'

Charlie caught a fleeting and most entertaining glimpse of Umbridge's drolly purple face and heard a not-so-far-away Mia yelling 'NOW!' before he was lost in a horde of wands, fists, sweat, delighted yells, screams of protests, jinxes and mostly of all icy, white snowballs flying all around him as he fought to remain in one piece and prevent himself from getting knocked out by the plummeting snow.

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She was sorry for herself.

Minerva McGonagall was not one who revelled in self-pity, and yet now, she felt that sympathy was something she most certainly deserved. She silently vowed to expressly apologize to Albus for all the times she had snapped irately at him for his long-suffering explanations on sweets and confectionery; even his lecturing monologues on the accursed cocoa bean, lemon drops and every other saccharine variety on the planet as he dragged a reluctant version of herself to Honeydukes was nothing compared to the torture she was enduring now.

Deciding that her voice would soon vanish from the lack of use of it, she wondered if she had been merely dragged along on this frigid hike to prevent Horace and Leto's "friendly" tête-à-tête from turning homicidal. Then again, she was still wondering how on earth, the two had actually agreed to go on a walk together. Perhaps, that idiot Rolanda had convinced them that sub-zero temperatures helped to overcome the iciness between staff. Note to self, she thought, rolling her eyes, Transfigure Rolanda into a rat and chase her around the staff room in your animagus form. That should teach her, she sniffed, as Leto yelled rancorously into her ill-fated right ear.

'Horace, I don't know why you're at this again,' the comment aimed at an untroubled Horace ended up resounding in Minerva's ear instead.

About time, Minerva sniggered mutely; finally, Leto was irritated by Horace's ceaseless reiteration of yarns on the illustrious wizards whose minds he had helped hone. Minerva loathingly speculated as to whether she should drop in a line stating that a certain Tom Riddle of Slughorn's teaching was now the most feared and iniquitous Dark wizard of all time. She decided against it, as Leto treated him to another particularly acerbic retort; the Hufflepuff witch seemed to be torturing him enough for the moment.

Praying for respite and sincerely promising to no one in particular that she would docilely submit to Albus' wishes the next time he asked her to accompany him to Honeydukes, she glanced around the snow-carpeted grounds, her keen and well-practised eyes searching for any tell-tale signs of students amidst the wintry shades, at the same time wondering if she was pushing her luck; no student in their right mind would wander about in such frosty weather.

She turned back her attention to Leto and Horace's chinwag that was passing through her exasperated head without leaving the faintest trace of implication behind. Fed up of trying to feebly inject some common sense into their banter which was taking place as though she didn't even exist, she lost her infamous temper and snapped loudly in a most infuriated voice, 'And would you stop? It's Christmas Eve, give it a rest, for now, at least!'

'I will, if he stops preaching and starts to act his age,' Leto retorted acidly, glaring at a remotely unabashed Horace Slughorn.

'Really, Leto-,' Horace began placidly, tightening a ridiculous, baby-blue bonnet with dolphins printed around it around his remarkably egg-like head.

'What's that?' Leto cut across whatever Horace had to say and pointed at a moving mass of snow, ice and colour between a canopy of two tall, intertwined trees overhead.

'It looks – like a huge snowball,' Horace suggested lamely and both Leto and Minerva turned and shot him their best incredulous looks, as though they could not quite believe what he was saying.

'Hark, hark,' Leto leered maliciously. 'How bright, Horace, really … but I'm afraid even a two-year old could have told us as much … _it looks like a huge snowball!'_

Minerva privately marvelled at what had happened to the typically regal and dignified Leto; there seemed to be something about Horace Slughorn's loquaciousness that bought out the worst in the otherwise stately and august witch.

'Right,' Minerva broke in the icy silence surrounding them with her characteristically brisk air, though she was quite relieved by the reprieve. 'I propose we … investigate?'

'Of course,' Leto nodded and headed off to the stirring pile without further ado.

'Horace?' Minerva queried hesitantly at the older man who was staring plaintively after the retreating witch. 'Are you alright?'

'I'm fine, thank you, Minerva,' Horace said dismissively, waving an airy hand in the air as he strode beside her in Leto's wake.

'Good Lord! What are you doing? Stop! Stop it at once!' Leto's sharp voice drifted through the frosty air. Minerva quickened her stride and Horace followed suit, panting heavily to keep up with her swift gait.

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Professor Minerva McGonagall stood on the grounds of Hogwarts beside her two contemporaries, taken aback, as she eyed the tangled mess on the snowy floor that happened to be her own Gryffindors and some of Horace's Slytherins, wands, snow, undone cloaks, gloves and hats all jumbled in one immense pile on the grounds having a incensed snowball fight. Manual thrashing and spectacular spell work seemed to be taking place simultaneously in the icy blur, punctuated by howls, yells and triumphant cackles from both parties. Clearly, Leto's sharp order seemed to have had little effect on the fiercely duelling and wrestling Gryffindors and Slytherins.

'Wh-what-' sputtered Slughorn, looking aghast as he came to a halt beside Leto's helpless-looking figure.

'Stop this immediately!' Minerva commanded in a thunderous voice most students recognized as dangerous, apprehending that it was unlikely that her shocked Slytherin counterpart would regain control of his paralysed vocal cords before the situation got out of hands.

At her strident instruction, the howling, yelling and duelling seemed to curb instantly and the students hurriedly untangled themselves and slipped into two separate clusters, glaring at each other mutinously with looks that plainly hinted they wished each other the most painful of deaths.

Minerva subjected the Gryffindors to her disbelieving scrutiny and discerned that they seemed to be carefully avoiding each other's eyes as they stood mildly before her. Alexannah Truman was sporting a most spectacular black eye, Mia Bridger had an ugly gash just above her left eye, Charlie Whitman was nursing his limp hand with a gentleness that suggested he had sprained it rather painfully in the tussle and Cornelia Hale was choking unceremoniously on a large chunk of snow, at which Mia hastily pulled out her wand and pointed it to her throat.

'Anapneo,' she mumbled quickly and a bewildered Cornelia ceased coughing immediately as Mia shot her an apologetic glance.

The Slytherins looked as though they had suffered more brutality on the Gryffindors' hands; Umbridge was groping about blindly, a snowy halo revolving around her eyes as she whimpered piteously, the Frye twins, who looked as though they had been jinxed several times were staring at Mia with a sort of wary, unholy fascination.

'Miss Bridger, kindly undo that jinx at once,' Minerva said sternly, gesturing at the snivelling form of Dolores Umbridge, who had tripped on the hem of Frederick Frye's rippling, black robes, and was now flat upon the snow in a position that quite accurately matched that of an enthusiastic sun-bather.

Mia did not ask how Professor McGonagall knew she had been the one who had jinxed Umbridge; she just whipped out her wand immediately and pointed at Umbridge's curly locks with a remorseless stare. 'Terminus.'

The halo immaterialised and vanished into the cold as Mia drew her wand back and stowed it back into her robes, looking remarkably unabashed.

Presently, Dolores seemed to have regained some of her lost composure and stood in what she undoubtedly considered to be a daunting pose as she glanced down accusingly at a silent Mia. 'She bewitched snowballs to follow me around the place, Professor,' she sniffed pathetically, looking up hopefully at an incredibly unsympathetic Professor McGonagall. She continued nevertheless in a injured tone, 'Yes, we were just walking this way, Professor, and they-' she pointed at Mia, whose face was inscrutable as she met Umbridge's condemning glower- 'they showered us with snowballs-'

'In other words, you were having a snowball fight,' Professor Kettleburn said coldly, cutting over the loquaciousness ruthlessly as she eyed the maudlin Slytherin with concealed distaste. 'Miss Umbridge, do stop acting as though you have just been through a horrifying ordeal … I have never known snow to hurt so much.'

'But, Professor,' Umbridge whined; now directing her comments at a scandalized Professor Slughorn in a desperate attempt to earn someone's empathy. 'They weren't content with piling us with snow, they jinxed us as well-'

'Excuse me!' Alexannah said furiously, interrupting Dolores' largely fallacious diatribe and taking a step forward to jab Dolores' in her flabby shoulder. 'But if I recollect clearly, we were simply throwing snowballs until you attempted to jinx Mia-'

'But she isn't hurt-' Umbridge said self-piteously pointing to Mia's unhurt, expressionless figure.

'Yeah, just because she had the sense to block the jinx … which is more than you can say, Umbridge-' Cornelia sneered maliciously at Umbridge's latest assertion.

'No one asked your opinion, Mud-' Dolores snarled, forgoing all efforts at dramatization and attempts to draw sympathy from an insensitive audience.

'Just shut up!' Alexannah hissed viciously, looking like she was raring to slap Dolores hard in the face for what she had just said.

'That's quite enough!' Professor McGonagall said loudly, glaring down at the three of them through her square spectacles, bringing their vehement debate to an immediate end. 'Whose suggestion was this?' she asked, ignoring Dolores' jubilant look as she turned to the Gryffindors once more.

'Mine,' Mia said truthfully, in an utterly flat voice, giving no one the chance to defend her because she knew this was exactly what they had been planning on doing.

'But we joined in too,' Alexannah asserted immediately, glaring at Mia in a way that told her to shut up. McGonagall fixed her with an inquisitive stare.

'No, you didn't,' Mia argued immediately, and for the first time, she sounded irritable as she fully returned Alexannah's glower. 'I forced you to, remember?'

'So,' Professor McGonagall interjected into their heated dialogue loudly and they fell silent as though struck dumb. 'You began a snowball fight on the unsuspecting Slytherins for?'

'It was just innocent fun!' Charlie said defensively, speaking for the first time since the tussle had been stopped.

'Innocent fun!' Dolores shrieked again, sounding piercingly like a child threatening to throw a tantrum in public as she placed her stubby fists on her hips. 'You assaulted us-harmed innocent individuals-you call that a past time?'

'Well, you're the one who started jinxing us, you big lump of frog spawn!'

'That will do, Miss Truman,' Professor McGonagall said sharply. 'I gather what took place is something like this – you were out of things to do, so you thought it amusing to start a snowball fight with the Slytherins who panicked and attempted to jinx you … and as it seems to me … pulverize you as well-' her eyes passed over the gaping gash on Mia's forehead and Alexannah's black eye before she continued – 'and you jinxed them back … and things continued in a such a fashion till Professor Kettleburn interrupted.'

'Well, yes-'

'Miss Umbridge, kindly learn to speak only when you are being addressed to,' Professor McGonagall stated frostily, staring down at her. 'Miss Bridger, if you please-'

'Yes, that is exactly was happened, Professor,' Mia said, looking straight into Professor McGonagall's emerald green eyes; she didn't even look remotely afraid.

'It was just … a bit of fun, Professor,' Cornelia insisted in a small voice, looking at the snowy floor, having no wish to be subjected to McGonagall's startling glower.

'Fun, right! How would you like it if I did that to you?' Dolores sneered spitefully, taking a step forward in Cornelia's direction.

'Oh! Why don't you just do it then, and we'll see, toad face.' Alexannah smirked with the same viciousness lining her voice as she glared contemptuously in Umbridge's direction, pulling her sleeves back in preparation for combat.

'You filthy blood-traitor! How dare you-' Dolores dove at Alexannah in one fierce leap (her flab, admittedly, rather ruined the effect) and then, flew back forcefully; her fall cushioned by an invisible pillow of air.

'The two of you clearly don't understand instructions,' McGonagall snapped severely, stowing her wand back into her robes as Mia pulled Alexannah behind her forcefully with a frantic shake of her head. 'And since the two of you seem bent on disobeying me, I propose you suggest what punishment you would like.'

Silence followed as McGonagall's shrewd judgement rung in their ears – the meaning of which filled their heads with a sense of impending doom, for whatever punishment they chose for the other, the same would go for them.

'You don't have much to say now, I see,' she voiced coolly but Professor Kettleburn's mellow brogue cut through the contiguous tension like a knife.

'Come now, Minerva, it's Christmas Eve, let them off for once…' she pleaded on their behalf, eyeing her comrade for hopeful signs of mercy.

'No, it's fine, Professor,' Mia interrupted, quite audaciously, looking straight up, once more, her hair a dishevelled nest of auburn. 'But I don't think the others should be punished … it was my idea after all,' she emphasized pointedly, surveying the effect this had on the Professors.

Professor Kettleburn flashed her a look of sudden bewilderment mixed with incredulity; she looked just like she had when Mia had transfigured the table; and then, turned to look at Professor McGonagall, whose face was, as usual, devoid of any humane expression.

Minerva was simply contemplating her options, unseeingly eyeing their anxious faces; surely such miscreants were unforgivable, though she had a reason to be rather grateful for their scuffle, else she would still be stuck trying to sort Horace's and Leto's squabbles. There was, of course, another reason …

She sighed, shook her head and then, declared the result of her contemplation to the apprehensive crowd before her, 'Well, I'll let you off for this time-' A collective intake of relieved breath followed the pronouncement '-but if this has anything to do with Christmas spirit, kindly sort yourselves before term ends.'

The Gryffindors stared, shocked for words and then, smiles broke through, shoulders unclenching as Alexannah and Cornelia hugged each other cheerfully, hardly daring to believe that Minerva McGonagall – the strictest teacher in Hogwarts had just let them go scot-free. The Slytherins were scowling malevolently; apparently, they would have preferred the Gryffindor head's previous offer, even if they would have had to be punished in the bargain.

Only Mia looked half-puzzled as she eyed the lithe figures of Professors McGonagall and Kettleburn vanish into a flurry of snow, heading back to the warm shelter of the castle and part of their conversation drifted into her keen ears.

'Remind you of someone, Minerva?' Professor Kettleburn's thoroughly amused voice came as quite a surprise to Mia, who slipped even further into the undergrowth to catch the rest of their conversation, leaving behind Professor Slughorn who was helping Charlie heal his sprained arm. However, the Hufflepuff head's amusement didn't not nearly surprise her as much as Professor McGonagall's half-indignant voice slithered into her ears.

'Shut up, Leto!'

Merlin, Mia thought admiringly, Professor Kettleburn must either be really, really, really brave or really, really, really foolish – no one in their right mind would tease Professor McGonagall otherwise. Going by the current situation, she was inclined to think that the Hufflepuff head was, maybe, more on the foolish side …

Blissfully ignorant of Mia's deep evaluations on her mental equipment, Professor Kettleburn continued to shamelessly needle her annoyed colleague, 'Ah, second year, Dumbledore caught us … ah, in a tight situation, let's say …'

'Leto!' McGonagall protested against her continuing on whatever had happened in their second year, rather half-heartedly, Mia thought, now positively brimming with curiosity as to the two teachers' pasts. She pushed aside the low branches of a leafless sycamore tree hurriedly and trailed the witches with her inquisitive gaze.

'Good old days, really … where was I … um, he let us off after a … ah, similar display of Gryffindorian courage … hmm, I heard Orion Black's ears were never the same again…' she continued in the same ha-I-get-to-pull-your-leg voice which she probably never got to use and McGonagall was obviously not enjoying.

'Oh, they were fine,' McGonagall snapped huffily at her bantering companion, abandoning all lackadaisical protests. Mia could well imagine McGonagall rolling her eyes, as, '…he looked like a rat, anyway … I thought it would enhance the look..' was added to her defensive assertions.

'Minerva!' Leto exclaimed in a mock-scandalized voice, punching her in the shoulder like a young teenager. 'Whatever would your students say if they heard…'

At this point, Mia had to literally stuff her fists in her mouth for the fear of exploding into violent fits of laughter; the mere idea of _Professor McGonagall _doing something illicit was a complete shock to her; though deeply amusing … well, maybe, McGonagall was a lot more humane than she looked, albeit, she could not help wondering what could change a person's life so drastically… Perhaps she thought, as she watched the two older witches disappear into the Entrance Hall, shaking with silent hilarity, age did change a lot … though the essence of childhood always remained, lingering and longing to be fondly remembered.

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**A/N:** Thanks for reading, don't forget to review, cause reviews = my life, lol! Update will be soon, I promise!


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